Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom
by Gseven
Summary: Imagine that Lily had a brother no one knew about. Imagine that brother died before he could go to Harry. Imagine that Brother being replaced by… well… me. NT/OC romance; kinda, HP/OC family, Wizarding world vs Gseven: taking bets now. Rated M for safety
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Firstly, I would like to say that I had never intended to have any story with a self-insert. Unfortunately, I had an idea that just **will not **leave me alone. I would also like to state, that with the exception of the Character G7 and his alter ego of Garret Sean Evans; almost every other character used herein is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. Happosai belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and the various cartoon creatures (particularly Tazzy, the Tasmanian Devil) belong to who owns the rights to them. There will also be references to others that belong to various television producers.

Awl sew, iffen ewe sea sumpin' ya reckoneyeze it's prolly cuz Potter and them belong tew JKR, or, conversely, one of the innumerable fanfiction writers that populate the web. This site in particular. Chances are, if it was an idea I really liked I shamelessly stole it. With the dearth of original names for Goblins, please don't hold it against me if you have seen Snatchwallet, Knutpincher, Grabpockets or Ragnok to name but a few.

This is a work of fiction, no Galleons, peso's, gilders, dollars or pounds sterling have changed hands… DAMMIT! Not into mine at any rate. Also, this will be the only time this Disclaimer will appear, I ain't one fer redundancy to the point of silly.

This may be a self-insert, but it will be told in third person narrative. Also, any that have gotten updates messages regarding this story, most likely it's because I have gone back and edited some faux pas and corrected some typelexia.

**Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom**

**CHAPTER 1**

**Wishing can be Dangerous; your results may vary**

Sometime in 2009;

Our hero had a real name, most assuredly, but he hadn't used it in so long; apart from business related matters, he hardly recognized it when it was used. His nickname had become so much a part of his personality over the past twenty years he even thought of himself as G7, or more completely, G7998.

He had been around for just about forty-seven years at this point and he was a bit annoyed. Mostly due to the usual hurry up and wait required of him in the industry in which he was employed. Once again he was in a non-descript city of northwest Texas, waiting on the shipper to get his load ready.

Our hero is a truck driver, one of those poor individuals without whom you would most likely not be reading this. Eating your puffed cheese balls and drinking your energy drink, or using any number of devices, wearing clothes or even having toilet paper on a roll sitting on the desk in front of you for sneezes. Unless you happen to be one of THOSE sorts that use toilet paper on your desk for a less wholesome purpose. It shouldn't need to be said that if you own it, a truck brought it.

One of the most disrespected and under appreciated persons you could meet. He doesn't often point out his importance to the economy or nation; he knows everything would stop without him and his brothers of the road.

All of that has absolutely nothing to do with this story.

G7 had been waiting for a load to be ready so he could hook up and take it to the destination marked on the manifest he had yet to see. He'd been waiting for most of the day and it looked as if the load wouldn't be ready until the next day. Of course this was a normal occurrence in his industry, especially with the particular shipper where he was presently cooling his heels.

So, to alleviate his boredom, G7 was in the sleeper portion of his truck with his computer on and the Internet connected, killing time in a fairly new way. He was reading fan fiction at his favorite site. Of course, he had read all seven of the Potter books and was thoroughly disgusted with the last two, and not too happy with the fifth one. Nor was he especially impressed with the particularly odd set of circumstances in the previous four. The phrase 'overly contrived' comes to mind.

No, he was not reading any of the currently half million plus stories based on Potter. His favorite stories in that vein were yet to have any new updates. At the moment he was reading an adventure with a new perspective regarding the Bat and how Bruce Wayne might have dealt with crime if he'd had a sense of humor and a predilection for pranks. Imagine a crime-fighting Joker. Creepy isn't it?

As the hour grew later and later, and the day turned to dusk and then to night, G7 read. Patiently waiting for the call on his cell phone. His eyes weary, his annoyance at having lost an entire day of drive time having peaked, he prepared for bed, shutting down the laptop.

He listened to the radio for a brief time while preparing for bed. Hearing the latest news on the wrecked economy and how taxes were most likely going to be raised to cover the over enthusiastic spending by elected officials that believed, falsely, they could tax and spend the nation to prosperity. Sighing to himself he muttered, "I really wish I could make some sort of difference."

Of course, his wish had nothing to do with what happened next. His intent with that wish was more of the 'take the nitwits on the Hill into a woodshed and show them that it isn't THEIR money' variety. This process would quite likely have raised blood blisters on the baseball bat he would have used. He reminded himself that the people got what they voted for in the last election. Only it was turning out to be 'Hope' that it ends soon, and 'Change', as they were lucky to have a little in their pockets.

Just as he closed his eyes, his bunk fell out from underneath him. Striking the surface that met his body; G7 gave the requisite grunt of pain with the unexpected loss of a not quite soft mattress and finding himself on a floor of some kind.

"OW! That hurt."

He also discovered that he had a sharply painful and tender spot on his chest, accompanied with a trickle of blood. Apparently he had some sort of wound that hadn't been there before. The pain went deep into the muscle on his right daddary (not to be confused with a mammary, which exists only to titillate most men and some women, depending upon their gender attraction.) after probing it gently with a finger. "Urgh! That hurts worse!" he exclaimed. He then was struck by the fact that he was lying on a tiled floor. "What in the Hell happened to my truck!" He asked, as he looked around from the floor of a white room, forgetting the pain in his chest for the moment.

"Your 'truck' is precisely where you left it," a humor filled feminine voice said, with a slightly British accent.

The voice came from a point above and behind his head where he lay. Twisting and craning his neck, he was witness to a set of dainty toes with toenails painted in a manner emulating a mirror, his face reflected within. The shapely toes connected to well made feet clad in sandals with golden strands that wrapped up the attached to legs that were mouth watering in the extreme, and went all the way up. Even more delightful feminine body parts followed the legs. This entrancing figure was shown to its best advantage in a clingy material that was opaque and translucent and nearly transparent all at once. The figure before him was beyond being a superb example of womanhood. Most men would have been reduced to slavering fools at this point.

G7 isn't most men, however. While he does appreciate a beautiful woman as much as the next man, perhaps a bit more than the next man. He wasn't about to lie to himself and assume that he would have the merest possibility of a chance with this woman before him, a snowball would have more likelihood of surviving July in Hell. That and he was still miffed about the long wait and, with his truck missing, he was just shy of beginning to get peeved.

"And why am I not in it?" He asked in response to the previous answer, some annoyance reflected in his voice.

Smiling seductively, the woman answered, "Because you are here."

"Okay, I'm dreaming or something. Dunno why I'd be dreaming some woman I'd never seen before posing riddles… great view though. Oddest thing, never dreamed in Technicolor before, or actually felt pain either. I must have been more tired than I thought. After all, I'd only driven 12000 miles over the past two weeks with no let up for a real break without worrying about a scheduled pick-up or delivery. Does dispatch understand that it's really hard on a guy to be going so long without a real rest?

No, they don't! They'd much rather we drive until we begin to hallucinate and have wrecks. All because they honestly think that a load scheduled for delivery on Tuesday at 14:00 is perfectly acceptable to have delivered on Sunday at 01:30. Never mind that the consignee always looks at the driver like he's on crack or something when he asks if they can take the load early, when it's clear they don't have the room in the warehouse for any product at the moment. Of course that is assuming that there is even anyone there at the time to sign for the delivery.

And now I'm here dreaming about a drop dead gorgeous woman telling me that my truck is where I left it, while talking to me in what looks like a men's restroom, abso-utterly typical of my stupid dreams." Gseven then trailed off mumbling about a giant radioactive hamster rampaging through his nightmares and wrecking the cable company office he'd once worked out of. The punch line there was geographic in nature. Yes, G7's nightmares tended to turn into comedic interludes reminiscent of a hippie's LSD flashback. No, G7 wasn't one of those poor excuses for humanity that had grown up and managed to take over the political class of his home country.

He just had an active imagination that tended to run wild after a large pepperoni, onion and jalapeno pizza. "What ever I ate to cause this, I ain't eatin' it again!" He proclaimed loudly enough to be heard by his attractive audience.

Looking to the woman, who'd begun to laugh with a golden chime to the voice, he asked. "What's so damned funny?"

"You, my dear. So typical of the people of your world, making assumptions about what is real and what isn't. Perhaps, if I could act more directly in your world… No matter! You are here and your truck is elsewhere."

Nodding his head as if he understood the woman, whom he certainly did not, he said. "Sorry, it's been a bad month so far. Guess I was completely wrong about it being a dream. I mean, this kind of thing happens to me all the time, most often after I've had a bit too much in the way of adult type beverages. And my friends wonder why I quit drinking." muttering the last.

"Now to interesting questions, since it appears that I won't be waking any time soon. What did you mean about 'people from my world'? Aren't you from there too?"

Another tinkling laugh, "No. I am magic."

"That answers that. It really is kind of obvious isn't it? Next one… Who are you then?"

"That is a bit more difficult to answer, I've had many names."

"Well, just gimme a hint, if I don't get it in three guesses, you get five points."

"So much disbelief." The woman said, the laughter and smile colored slightly with sadness. "As I have said, I've many names… Circe, the Morrigan, Maeve, and Mitra. The Greeks called me Hecate. The Egyptians called me Isis, and the Atlanteans called me Ish-Ma-Na-ke."

"That certainly helps to narrow down who you are. I'll just go make a call for the nice men in the little white coats now. Won't be a minute."

Standing, G7 looked around a little more and found the body of what he assumed was a dead man on the floor, a small puddle of blood pooling around the man's head, perhaps ten feet from where he stood. "Well, that guy doesn't look so good. What happened to him?"

"That is simple, you killed him. Or rather, the previous owner of the body you now occupy killed him."

"No, I do believe I would have remembered killing him." G7 argued, then stopped and looked to the woman, his eyes slightly narrowed. "What do you mean the 'body I now occupy'?"

"I shall explain." Hecate said.

"To you, it is the latter part of the year 2009, where you have spent the better part of a day waiting to perform the employment you currently hold. You now find yourself somewhere quite different from where you began. It is the early part of 1986 here. This is because all the worlds of the infinity known as the multi-verse exist at slightly different rates in the flow of time. There are so many different worlds where you exist; it would take another infinity in counting them. There are countless worlds upon worlds, some of which you are quite conversant with. There are worlds where time travel is common place, or where men travel the stars seeking adventure and others where barbarian warriors do battle with demon and god alike.

There are worlds where the physical abilities of normal humans can be likened to super human through training. There are other worlds where there are teams of young girls who fight the forces of evil with magic, and worlds where gigantic mechanical constructs are used to fight wars.

There are even more where magic exists and is used with great effect to alter the material or to control the minds of men. And you, my dear G7, are here because I brought you here! Think of it as an answer to your wish!" She ended happily, rapidly fluttering her eyelashes.

Pursing his lips in thought, G7 looked to his feet. "Wish, wish… Look, that wish to make a difference was about correcting the imbalance between government and the people. The leaders have forgotten that they serve the people, not the other way around."

"That is the way of wishes G7. As you well know, one should always be careful of what one wishes." Hecate smiled her brilliant smile.

"He just might get it, especially if he isn't specific." He finished the age old saying in a dull voice.

Looking into his eyes, Hecate said. "Now ask your questions."

"Alright, lemme recap first. You are Hecate, the apparent embodiment of magic, quite possibly what pagans refer to as 'the goddess'. For some unknown reason, which you have yet to tell me, you have brought me here and placed my soul, I'm assuming, into another body, the previous renter having been evicted after dispatching some unknown person who now lies dead at my feet, again for reasons yet to be revealed.

Am I following this okay?"

Hecate nodded eagerly. "Very good Gseven! You are brighter than I had expected."

"Yeah, truckers are almost always more than we seem. I can even tie my shoes without help. Now, another question, why in the name of Bullwinkle does my chest hurt on the right side and why am I bleeding from it?"

"That would be from the injury you sustained when he," she points to the lifeless form on the floor, "killed you, or, rather, the previous person that was in that suit of material flesh."

With a hooded look, Gseven glanced at the woman and said, "Ah, that makes ever so much sense!" Mumbling -Like pulling teeth- "Why were they killing each other?"

"The one on the floor was a wizarding mugger. You can tell by the wand still in his hand."

Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, and finding no glasses there, G7 shook his head; speaking softly. "Wizarding, hmmm," then more loudly. "How did my body kill him?"

"It was an accidental killing. The mugger, poor fool, had a weak heart and couldn't handle the stunning spell you cast. He also struck his head on the floor rather sharply, as you can see. Unfortunately, the Avada Kedavara curse he had cast struck you in your chest, on the right side, just above that manly nipple of yours."

Giving the attractive blonde another hooded look he said, while thinking to himself that she was as bad as a certain embodiment of the Norse Goddess of Fate related to the past, "Leave my manly nipples out of the conversation if you don't mind. And since you said 'Avada Kedavara', am I to assume that this is one of the God awful numbers of Harry Potter universes then?"

"My, you are very quick! Only two hints and you already have it!" Hecate exclaimed with excitement.

"Wonderful! I'm trapped in a men's room with an overly attractive Potter fan-girl." He paused and then spoke again, "I think I know why you brought me here. The big question is, what do you think I can do about the obstacles to Harry and his life, not to mention Fondlesmore, Crusty-shorts and Snidely?" another pause, "Man! That sounds like a group of ambulance chasers."

Angrily putting her face within inches of his, Hecate hissed. "Fan-girl? Fan-girl? I AM MAGIC!" then more calmly. "In so many of the realms where the boy exists and has to fight the evil result of an old fool with his head in the clouds, or a place a lady shouldn't mention, constantly referring to the 'Greater Good', I have had to sit by and watch! With Fate and Destiny and their desires for a 'Chosen One' to defeat the 'Dark' one last time taking precedence, when it was the old fools responsibility to begin with!

Then to make matters worse. This child of hope, after succeeding in his task by becoming the 'Master of Death', was left to live a life of mediocrity. Naming his children after the people who had harmed him most, honoring the man that had placed him in a purgatory that could be classed with Hell for sixteen years. And then memorializing the man that had stalked his mother, bargaining to have her life protected from his master so he might have a sex slave of some sort, while her husband and child were murdered! "

Here Hecate smiled, "What do I believe you can do? I believe that you can deliver retribution to those that have harmed one of my children. I believe you can do much to reverse the damage done, allowing the boy to win and become more, or destroying that evil yourself. How you do it is up to you. As the goddess of Magic, I give you only one order. Sow havoc and confusion within the wizarding world in the ways only you can think of, protecting my children in England."

"Tall order there. Can I get back to you on your offer; I need to speak to the manager first. At this point I can only offer the standard rebate." Gseven said with flippancy.

"Oh! I do like you," Hecate said, her smile returning. "You have no fear of an immortal. I shudder to think of your response to threats from Tom and his followers, or Dumbledore and his Order."

"I might just hand them my socks and ask if they could have them washed." Scowling at his feet, and seeing very nice looking and comfortable dragon hide boots. "I haven't said I'll do it. What if I was to say 'to Hell with it' and demand to be sent home?"

Looking guiltily to the far wall, Hecate bit her lip. "I cannot send you back. It was only barely possible for me to bring you here. The wish you had made allowed me to bring you. When you made your wish I was looking for the answer to another wish entirely, and you are quite likely the best possible prospect for that answer.

Where the difficulty lies is in the fact that, while I can slightly affect something within a world like yours from outside, I cannot send anything there; even something as insubstantial as a soul. It is quite straining to bring anything from such a world. In fact, the power I used to bring you here has even reduced my magic to the extent that I will have to spend the next millennia regaining my full abilities. Attempting to put you back could possibly kill me and still not return you to your truck and your old life."

"So; what you're saying is that my nearly eighty year old mother is going to be told her youngest son has died from reasons unknown? I'm pretty sure most of the people I know will throw some kind of party. But my mother and sister are going to be wrecked! My employer is going to be put out, having to have a body removed from one of the trucks. The shipper isn't going to be thrilled having someone die while waiting for them to get off their asses and get a load ready. Maybe that will get them to move faster in future… I suppose that's a good thing.

Of course, my brothers won't be too bothered by my loss. They might even remember to talk about me now and then. As far as the people I knew growing up are concerned… the less said the better. Even so, I had a life that, while not beer and skittles, was at least moderately tolerable. This is a little inconvenient to me Hecate.

I should be very pissed with you! Very! At the very least you should have asked first, and not just snagged me and brought me here. I might have agreed to help. Now you give me no choice."

Hecate was impressed at the cold, offhanded manner in which Gseven spoke. She'd never encountered a mortal who didn't have some fear when dealing with an immortal. She feared he might refuse to protect her children of magic. Even with that concern, she wanted to assure herself that he would help, "I was unable to ask first! I just explained that it is far easier to bring something from your realm, particularly the spirit and soul rather than a physical body. Even sending a tiny message asking for your help could have over-taxed me. Magic can do many things, but there are rules even I cannot bypass."

Failure in this negotiation would result in another world ravaged by magical warfare. Hecate had been given dispensation by the All Father to find a way to help Potter in this universe where his problems were even worse, with all the Marauders dead, or part of the enemies forces. Fate and Destiny wanted to let this world be, just to see if Harry Potter could succeed with even less to fight for. There had been moments that Hecate had despaired and thought it would be best to remove the magic from her angered her greatly that she was considered one of the minor immortals, asked to bless a select few with the gift of Magic. She was always prevented from having her own chosen, or even assisting one of her favorites. It was something the Nameless One had insisted on when she had signed her contract for renewal several millennia before. She had hoped that this time there would be the possibility that she would be able to have a work around. To finally undermine the efforts of Fate, Destiny, Death and Dumbledore in at least one world. She had gone to the Nameless One for permission to bring about changes in this world and he had put a stop to the interference of the other, save for Dumbledore. Hecate hoped she could convince this mortal that he could help with one of her favorite children.

Seeing the look of sadness and fear of failure in her eyes, Gseven spoke gently. "I said; I should be pissed with you. I'm not. I am annoyed at your assumption that I would be any use here. I am not a wizard! And, while I know what all the books had to say about the life of Harry Potter from age eleven to seventeen, and then nineteen years later, I'm in no way knowledgeable enough to fool anyone into thinking I know what I'm doing."

Slightly encouraged, Hecate smiled hesitantly. "What would you say if I had all of that taken care of?"

"I would say, speak of it and it might sway my decision," G7 said in reply, affecting the air of a certain Polish actor who had played the King of Siam once, no hint of humor in his voice this time.

Sighing, Hecate answered, "Well, in your realm you were an accomplished vocal mimic. Discovering this while I was in the process of bringing you here to replace the person whose body you now wear. I thought it would be useful for you to retain the ability, so I have granted this body with an improved version. You need only hear a voice once to replicate it. You have complete control over this ability, as it would become confusing for you if you did not.

I have also altered the body, with the exception of the eye color, of the previous occupant to your appearance and build at his age, which, by the way is twenty. I must say that your youthful self is much improved over the more middle aged form I rescued you from. All those muscles!"

"I was working for a cable television company when I was this age. And yes, I was fairly muscular at the time. Why did you do this?" He asked for clarification.

"I did this so as to allow you to use the skills you already have in your own arsenal as well as the skill sets that your host body possesses. I also felt it would ease your mind when looking into a mirror and seeing a familiar face rather than that of a stranger. I did, however, leave his scars and add your own. I think it adds character to you, especially the new scar, which, coincidentally, has a twin on the forehead of young Potter. Except yours isn't going to be red and angry as his is. Yours will actually heal because there is no soul fragment attached. Isn't that wonderful?" She asked cheerfully.

"Yeah, wondermous." G7 replied

"While you will retain your memories from your world and personality quirks, you will also have the memories and reflexes of former 2nd Lieutenant, Garret Sean Evans. Auror; Special Services Branch of the Confederation of Magical North America; Magical Department of Justice; as well as his skills and knowledge of magic.

I must tell you that he was specially trained in combat magic, focusing on offense. His defensive magics are above average while his interest in annoyance hexes and jinxes rivaled James Potter and Sirius Black.

"I understand. Thanks, I guess. Am I to assume that the memories of my new apartment will come to me as I need them, or will there be something else later? Also, am I some kind of cousin to the BWL?"

"No, you're his Uncle."

"Lily and Tooney didn't have a brother. And Lily was the only Muggle-born in the family; it says so in the books by She-Who-Has-More-Money-Than-God." Gseven corrected her.

"You should be aware of another old adage, 'Absence of evidence is not evidence of absence'. Merely because an Uncle by blood is not mentioned, does not mean none exists. Besides, Garret is their half-brother."

"Still doesn't explain the 'Evans' part of the name, unless they were adopted by dear old dad. By your sly smirk I can guess that it wasn't something like that, but do go ahead; explain."

Hecate smiled wider and said, "I'm ever so glad you are so quick witted! You are correct. No one was adopted by anyone. In fact, your sisters had no idea you existed. You were born at a time when they were very young and not very observant of their mother. They did question why your father was visiting so often however."

Cocking an eyebrow, Gseven asked. "And why didn't her husband know about it? I'm sure he would have had something to say. I know the elder Evanses were married until their deaths, just prior to Lily leaving school."

"That is the humorous part; your stepfather was in prison at the time, for tax evasion, quite a fascinating court case. He was imprisoned for five to fifteen years, getting out in six with time served. Of course, during this time your mother had become a bit lonely, and encountered your father. He was in England to assess the threat posed by the then very minor problem of Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

Rosemary found him dashing and was captivated with his rugged good looks and exceptionally manly ways. He was very careful to never use magic where she could see. The girls were unaware of the affair as the sexual encounters were only sporadic, and never where the girls could walk in on her and Sean.

Once you were conceived, Rosemary became very concerned. She was Catholic and held strongly to her beliefs in the Church Doctrines, so abortion was out of the question. But she couldn't keep you either, her husband wouldn't accept that it was a delayed pregnancy from him. A four year gap between husbandly bedroom endeavors wouldn't allow for him to suspend his disbelief."

"And since she was Catholic, the Church would most likely not allow for her to divorce her husband and marry my 'dad'." Gseven finished that part of Hecate's tale for her. "And I thought my life was messed up; this poor kid Evans had it a lot worse, and now I'm saddled with the odious history of being the product of an adulterous affair. People always talk about how men are like dogs when it comes to sex, never mentioning how it takes two to tango.

If the old man were here I think I'd box his ears for not keeping his pants up. I take it 'dad' didn't bother to tell young Evans about his origin and is now gone on to the Great Single's Bar in the Sky?"

"Don't be so judgmental! I've peered into your memories and seen what you have done yourself, so you have no room to talk!" Hecate interjected with some level of petulant ire. "After birth your mother gave you over to your father to be raised in America; where you learned all these amazing things about magic and the larger world that muggles don't even suspect. Your education also encompassed normal muggle topics. Your father insisted.

You're also fairly famous in your own right, having had some few adventures with your father in your youth, as well as one or two on your own.

Your father died eight months ago, and, while you were sorting through his papers, you came across his journals, well Garret did, and he was excited to get to learn more about his father. Not many people could say they knew very much about Sean Clarence O'Hearne! And young Garret was going to find out more than anyone ever had!

That is when he found out about his dual citizenship and family abroad."

Gseven nodded silently for a few moments and then said, "All that is very interesting. And it does explain the existence of the unknown brother almost cleanly without much need for bizarre literary acrobatics. Or even stretching the bounds of maybe." Taking a breath Garret continued.

"Another question… why are you and I are in a men's room? I mean, I know why I would be in here. Evidently Evans had need of it or he wouldn't have been in here to be mugged. Women of your particular stature aren't normally found in such an environment, not that I'm complaining about the view, far from it. There should be a law requiring such statuesque attendants be stationed in all men's rooms around the world.

It does add to the décor. The whole idea reminds me of a humorous story. But, I digress.

So why are we here?"

Her eye's glinting with humor and appreciation for the backhanded compliment on her appearance, Hecate explained. "We are here, G7, because it is where Garret suffered his fatal attack of sudden death. He was here for much as you surmised, washing his hands preparatory to boarding his flight. This particular men's room is located in the Los Angeles International Airport, and you are going on a trip, your desire to find lost family so strong within you that you resigned your commission with the service and packed your belongings to fly away and find them. You even spent some of your inheritance on investigators to locate your family, only finding out about Petunia.

But you mustn't rush directly to number four Privet drive! It would seem very peculiar for an unknown wizard to just pop out of thin air, so to speak, and whisk young Potter away. I would suggest that you hire the Goblin's to verify what your investigators told you. They are very good at ferreting out information here and there. In fact that was the plan that young Garret had in mind for when he arrived in England."

"Yeah, the bearded twinkler would be more than a little concerned at the sudden loss of his weapon to the hands of a stranger from foreign lands." G7 agreed. "Assuming that I will go along with this, and take the assignment you have so graciously decided to dump into my lap, how am I set for cash? Back home I had a few nickels and I think a quarter or two. Hiring the Goblins isn't going to be cheap, I can guess that."

For an answer, Hecate held out a small box that was about the size of a deck of cards. "Take this trunk. The contents should alleviate the problem of limited resources."

Taking the offered object, G7 asked. "So… What's in it?"

"Enough gold to win a war several times over."

"That much?" he asked, then said, "Seems like wars are getting smaller all the time."

"Please don't be obtuse! It is a shrunken trunk with three compartments, two of which have been expanded to cubes sixty feet to a side. Of course there are also the standard feather light charms as well. The two compartments are filled with gold ingot. The third compartment is a drawer three feet by three feet by one foot, internally expanded five times. It holds a large number of uncut gemstones, such as diamond and sapphire."

"Hecate," G7 said in a small voice then cleared his throat, "that is a powerful lot of money in the raw. I'm not going to be on the run because of a heist of Fort Knox am I?"

"Living the way you would like to become accustomed isn't going to be inexpensive G7." Hecate explained, "As to where all that gold comes from. My being an immortal allows for large amounts of valuable treasure to come into my hands. What I am gifting you is barely a fraction of my personal wealth. I have treasures at my disposal you could scarcely conceive of. I'm giving you processed gold bars and raw gems to make the Goblins less leery of you and your sudden deposit into a new vault. Luckily, your father, Sean, held half ownership in a South American gold mine along with a Clark Savage III. He received his dividends in gold and raw gems.

"You do realize that the temptation is very strong to take the gold, grab Harry and the people I liked and run don't you?" G7 asked.

"Of course," she replied. "But, the problems that would arise from that action are too horrible to contemplate. Riddle would successfully return; war would truly come and it would only be a matter of time before you would be forced to fight.

Also, if you think of a reason to go to Hogwarts before retrieving Potter, do so. The snake should be killed as soon as possible and there is also the map in the Come and Go Room that can be retrieved along with the diadem.

Manage your time well, and you should be able to spend four wonderful years raising Mr. Potter and correcting all the horrible emotional and physical problems he would have to deal with otherwise."

"Map? I thought Filch had the map in a file that the twins liberated. And, how am I gonna kill the snake? I'm not a Parselmouth."

"The map that the twins shall take from the caretaker is the copy that belonged to Pettigrew. The one you will find in the Come and Go Room is the copy that Sirius Black lost in the Marauders sixth year. He had found the Come and Go Room accidentally while looking for a place to hide the evidence of a prank when he was nearly caught by Filch. He was so excited about the discovery; he dropped the bag containing the evidence and the map in his rush to return with his friends. They never did discover the room again."

G7 took on a thoughtful expression; "I'll probably be fighting the bad guys with ranged long term pranks. I suppose I should probably try to pry the mutt out of Azkaban. Any suggestions as to how I could do that legally without using the rat? I could use the dogs help."

"I should explain to you that there is a surviving uncle for Harry Potter in this universe only because his godfather died the next day after the Potters were attacked. Pettigrew still escaped, but an easily excited Auror panicked and killed Sirius with an explosive curse rather than a disarming jinx. And the only reason you are here is to take over the life of that recently killed uncle, otherwise Harry would have no one other than Hermione on his side and she would be stolen from him."

"Sirius, confused, distraught and upset probably turned to face the Aurors when they arrived and had his wand in his hand. Him laughing insanely while saying it was his fault… I could see the Aurors being on edge. He turned, wand in hand and made some kind of gesture… Stupid mutt!" G7 deduced, and then asked. "What about Lupin? He'd be almost as useful."

Hecate became downcast; "He is very likely dead as well. Having lost all his friends in one twenty four hour period, Lupin became quite lost and found his way to a bottle. The last time I was aware of his continued existence in this world was two years ago. At that time he was extremely thin, ragged and dirty, living on the streets and not really a danger when he transformed, due to the excessive alcohol damage. He would still find locations to lock himself away, but he could hardly move. His wolf couldn't deal with the heavy drinking as well as you would think.

Sirius could still have his name cleared, as Pettigrew is masquerading as Scabbers with the Weasley's. He seems quite fond of rat kibble."

"So only the heir to the Marauders is left. I don't count the rat as a Marauder myself, anyone that would betray his friends… So I have no built in allies at the moment is what you are saying?" He asked.

Shaking her head, Hecate said. "Not at present. But, this does not preclude your finding them on your own. Even with 'built in' allies as you put it, you would have had much explaining to do. It is best to start fresh with others. Perhaps you will find allies among the people you know of already."

Checking his pockets G7 discovered another shrunken trunk as well as the tickets for his flight and noticed that the time for boarding was at 10:01 P.M. "What time is it? I have a flight to board it looks like and I really don't want to be late for it. Booking a new flight would be a pain in the keester I can live without."

Smiling brightly, Hecate replied. "It is currently 9:53 P.M. February thirteenth 1986. I shouldn't worry about the time we've spent speaking. I have temporarily stopped time for our chat. Chronos owed me a favor… You have plenty of time to clean up your mess with this body here," toeing the lifeless mugger again, "and still make your flight with a minute or two to spare.

I should explain that you have other gifts. You mentioned that you are not a Parselmouth, yes you are. The talent is something that is latent in the Parker side of the family genetics. Some twenty-five generations ago there was a squib born into the Slytherin Family. Through the years that squib's descendants have possessed the ability to greater or lesser degrees.

Usually these descendants were snake handlers that seemed to have an uncanny knack for dealing with serpents. You and Harry are the only magically gifted with the talent apart from Riddle.

Next, you are immune to all forms of mind magic. You cannot be confunded, compelled or imperioused. Mostly this is due to your own sense of self and force of will. Your own personality won't allow for the tampering from outside. I have added to your protections however, the manipulator and his pet Death Eater cannot peer into your memories nor can you be obliviated. Do you have any other questions?"

Gseven looked thoughtful for a moment and then asked, "Just one, really; why is it that most of the time, gods and goddesses always seem to have a British accent? Is it some kind of Union thing?"

Hecate, laughing cheerfully, turned to leave and stopped, "I should tell you that I have given you additional knowledge of magic and what it can do, including an ancient spell that surpasses any current disillusionment and invisibility charms. Moody and Dumbledore cannot see through it or even detect it. This extra knowledge will be indistinguishable from young Evans memories." She then stepped through the wall straight through a urinal. 'That's almost as useful as that trunk full 'o' gold!' Gseven thought.

Knowing that time had returned to normal at this point, G7 began grumbling to himself. "Couldn't she have done something with the dead guy herself? I mean really, it wasn't even me that whacked him! Clean up the messes, save a kid, protect the world. Gotta board a plane in just minutes and…"

After a brief moment of thought, he relieved the body of wand and a small purse holding some few Sickles and Knuts, far more Knuts than Sickles. Transfiguring the dead man into a goldfish and quickly flushing him down a commode, Garret didn't even bother making comment to himself on the manner of disposal. He was impressed with himself casting the magic. It seemed almost instinctive when he had done it.

G7 rushed through the restroom door and to the Gate for boarding his flight. Hecate had been correct; he did have a minute or two to spare after all.

+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+O+

Kudo's for anyone that caught the hidden internal challenge. And praise if you caught and understood the reference cameo.

The Challenge: As you can see from the set up, Harry must have a previously unknown relative who died and was replaced after Halloween 1981 but before Harry gets his Hogwarts Letter.

This person that must replace this relative should be from a 'real' universe that is cognizant and knowledgeable of the entire 7 book series. In depth knowledge of fanfiction would be good as well. The relative must be related to Lily. This person must be informed of his/her new situation by an immortal being. It can even be Nicholas Flamel.

Weasley's can be the whole family untrustworthy, or only Percy the prig, Ron the Hoover, Ginny the Potion Princess, and Molly (One Big Weasley Family)

Dumbledore must be a MOB; just like he is in canon, or even to the point that he is in Perfect Lionheart's 'Partially Kissed Hero'; Snape must be a complete and total ass. (Nothing makes me want to puke more than a 'Hero' Snape.)

All of the Marauders must be dead save Pettigrew.

Humor and fighting the war with Pranks preferred, but not required. Dursley baiting is always fun!

No crossovers except where references are made as an aside by the principle related to Harry. One exception to this, the immortal that informs the person being placed in the Potter-verse can be any of the immortals from Ah! My Goddess. Your preference may be as mine, Hecate, Boudica, Maeve, Death, God, Fate, Destiny or take your pick, it could even be Loki.

A relationship with Tonks of some sort, friendship or romantic.

Again, Remus is dead here, also Sirius. NO MARAUDERS, I cannot stress this enough. (I like the character of Remus, but honestly, it is quite annoying to have another Larry Talbot. I also like the character of Sirius, but they are both too damaged by the first war and Whiskers manipulations to be useful.)

The Ministry is to be an antagonist, except for a few employees. (Amelia Bones, Croaker, Shacklebolt)

Canon is a guideline, try not to kill off any of the bad guys until after Harry starts Hogwarts. Wrecking them politically, financially, or socially is good fun though. Certainly anything that embarrasses them to the point of willing to commit suicide to escape is fun too.

Preferred pairings, Harry/ Hermione, Harry/ Luna, Harry/ Any girl _**except**_ Ginny. Another issue I cannot stress enough. Any girl in this type of world that would believe it's _romantic_ after hearing the stories of how her mother trapped her father with potions is of questionable morals. Besides the whole Oedipus thing is really creepy. 'Oh! It's just like James and Lily are back!' PEW!

No super wands with multiple cores, they are a foolish concept in the extreme. A single core is the way it would honestly work. Remember that canon has Harry with a Holly and Phoenix feather core wand… it does not require the wand from Ollivander. The brother wand is not required. The power of a wizard/ witch is reliant upon the wizard, NOT the wand. Wanna have a super wand, try having a custom wand made after 3rd year with a donated feather from Buckbeak. Use of the same wood for his wand would be proper. According to pagan woodlore, Holly is Harry and Neville's birth wood. They have an affinity for it. The core exhibits power by being more closely attuned to its user; think of it in the like radio signals, the more in tune the station, the clearer the broadcast.

Don't make Harry have more money than God, more property than the planet actually has available, and don't Uber power Harry, he can have an early leg up on his magical education, but keep it simple, things like Occlumency and potions, theory and wand movement rather than actually using magic. Let's pretend that casting magic at an age before 11 will be damaging to his core (beyond accidental). Try to avoid making him an animagus/ metamorphmagus. He doesn't need it to win. If you do make him one of these, make the animagus believable, jbern had a good example in 'The Lie I've Lived' and The-Caitiff in 'Harry Potter and the Freak Parade.' In other words, no magical creature forms. And please have it be a singular form at that. Please also avoid making him both an animagus and metamorphmagus. I don't believe it would be possible to have both abilities. One or the other but not both.

Good luck, enjoy what I have written, and have fun writing your own.

The one and only Gseven, accept no substitutes or artificial ingredients. Again, I am terribly sorry about writing a self-insert.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer; see Chapter one

**Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom**

**Chapter 2**

**Goblins are Good Straight men; NOT**

February sixteenth, 1986, 19:27 hours GMT.

The flight had been very long, as it turned out, and Garret was still cursing in his mind about the previous renter's lack of foresight in booking the trip. 'Three connecting flights and a layover? Good Gawd! I never wanted to go to Cancun or the Bahamas's in the first place. But if you're gonna go to there, set it up for a few days stay! Then back to Chicago? What in the Hell is up with that? I can understand stopping for fuel in New Foundland, but really… does it have to take nearly fifteen hours? I thought the trucking industry was screwed up!'

These thoughts and others were playing through the mind of the new Evans as he stood at the carousel waiting for his single bag to appear. "If it's lost, I'm going to be annoyed." He muttered to himself. He was tired from a very long and convoluted flight, which the real Garret Evans had believed would be less expensive in the long run. New Garret knew that it's always best to go for a non-stop, the price is worth it. No long lines or unexpected delays, well, fewer of them anyway.

It certainly wouldn't have taken over forty-eight hours.

Seeing his bag, Garret grabbed it and pulled. Snagging the bottom of the cloth exterior on a rough patch of the carousel and ripping it. Fortunately for him, despite the fact it was a Saturday, early evening, there were few other passengers waiting at luggage retrieval. Glancing around, he gestured with his left hand, the arm wearing the wand holster, silently casting a repairing charm. He then went to the exit of Heathrow International to see about transportation.

He did know how to apparate and make port keys, but the lack of knowing the proper coordinates for any useful locations, such as the Leaky Cauldron prohibited that. Besides, he'd found in his possession close to twenty thousand dollars. 'If I can't afford a taxi with that, I'll just walk!' He thought to himself as he stepped into the slightly overcast dusk of England.

Hailing a cab was simple enough; all he had to do was step to the edge of the sidewalk and was nearly run down by one. "Where to Guv'nah?' the Cockney voice of the driver asked.

"Just take me to the used book store on Charring Cross road would you? I don't remember the address."

"Ya sure sir? Place'll be likely closed by the time we get there."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm meeting some people there." Garret replied, thinking to himself, 'nosy Brit. Prolly gonna call around to his friends in the shady business that there's a possible new roll in town.'

Nearly three hours and five circles of the block later, the cabby deposited Garret at the front of the used book store and went on his merry way, happy in the knowledge that he'd managed to rip off another Yank.

Garret knew that the cabby was padding his fare and didn't bother to point out the immoral action of the driver. With the shrunken trunk full of precious metal and gems, he wasn't too concerned about his overall finances. Besides, the joke was really on the cabby. The American greenbacks he'd been paid with were based on that fractional reserve-banking thing that really did a number on actual value. Only a matter of time before it failed AGAIN. He'll keep with gold and silver from now on.

Standing on the sidewalk, Garret looked around and saw the sign for the Leaky Cauldron across the street. Waiting for the traffic to subside before he crossed, he watched the foot traffic into and out of the tavern. Even in the evening, business was a little slow. He would have thought there would be a few more wizards and witches coming in for dinner, or a drink before going home than he had seen.

Then again, he couldn't see the Alley entrance from his current vantage, so couldn't be too sure. With a sigh at what Hecate had set him up for, Garret stepped across as the traffic let up. 'Time for the game face' Garret told himself as he opened the door and stepped inside the portal to the wizarding world's largest shopping district in England. The smell of stale alcohol and tobacco smoke smashed his olfactory like a freight train impacting a boulder at full speed. He was nearly overwhelmed at first. Looking around he saw that the number of patrons was smaller than he would have expected for a Saturday. The barman was cleaning the bar and setting fresh glasses on the shelf behind.

The elderly, balding man behind the bar looked up as he closed the door behind himself and said, "Evenin' sir. Is there anything I can get for you?"

With one eye almost closed, Garret looked to the man and said. "You, my good man, look like someone who wouldn't have any bad news to impart to a weary traveler. I would like a room, on the top floor with a terrace and a southerly view. Dinner wouldn't be amiss either."

Smiling, Tom answered, "I do have a room on the top floor sir; sorry to disappoint, but no terrace or southern view. There is a view of the Alley from one room, if you'd like it. And would you like to eat down here or have it in the room sir?"

"I'll have it in my room. What room number is it, how much for the week to start and what is on the menu for today?"

"Room number fifteen, five galleons thirteen sickles for the week and mutton stew for dinner sir. Meals are included in the price of the room."

"Excellent! Where do I put my John Hancock?" Garret asked, while handing over the payment from his own purse rather then the one from the mugger.

"The registry is right here sir." Tom said, slightly bemused, having no idea who John Hancock was. He had rightly assumed that his guest meant his signature.

Taking care to be exceptionally neat with his new name, Garret signed clearly and legibly for the first time in nearly twenty years. He had decided to sign in the best possible manner in memory of a great American. He also thought he'd try to establish a personality of carefree and light hearted, with a large pinch of smart aleck thrown in for good measure. 'Hell with it, I'll just behave like a nut. These morons will accept it as eccentric; especially with what I have in **that** trunk.' He decided.

As he was signing his name, Garret looked up to Tom and asked, "Is there a bath and a magic mirror in the room? I'd prefer two baths, but I suppose that I could refill the tub for the second one."

"Yes sir, there is a bath for every room as well as a magic mirror in each."

"I'll take the single bath, but the magic mirror has to go. I had one back in America, durned thing was constantly going on and on about my tattoos, I couldn't stand it! I don't even HAVE any tattoos! I do have an interesting scar that looks like Minnesota. Can you remove it?"

"Could I remove your scar, sir?" the barkeep asked with some confusion.

"No, the mirror. I've grown attached to the scar. It does come in handy when I find myself in Illinois."

Still a little confused, Tom replied, "Certainly sir, I wouldn't want you to have to hear about your non-existent tattoos from one of my mirrors. They're bad enough with me, telling me I should be getting a haircut. I mean really, I'd gladly take the advice if I didn't have so little to spare! I'll have it out of the room and replaced with a muggle style before you get finished eating sir."

"Thanks. I really didn't want to be a bother."

"No bother… Mr. Evans." Tom said, after looking at the entry in the registry.

"Call me Garret."

"All right Garret. The room is top of the stairs, third door on the right. Here's your key and I'll be right along with your dinner and new mirror."

Lifting his grip, Garret climbed the stairs to the top in search of his new digs. 'Not much of a place to be so well known. Shabby and a bit run down is my take on it. Still, as far as having a temporary address goes, the Cauldron isn't too bad.' He thought as he found room fifteen.

Turning the key in the lock, Garret stepped inside and muttered "Ignacis." The lights came up and a sight that had him almost drooling in anticipation greeted him. A Queen sized bed, with a feather mattress and quilts! A four poster at that! The perfect place for warfare on Morpheous. On the far side of the room was the door to the bath and a closet. At the head of the bed was a pair of small windows that opened onto the Alley and he could watch as the people below went about their day, slow as it was at the moment. The curtains were heavy and thick, just the thing for shutting out the sights and smells of the Alley below.

Taking the shrunken trunk with his personal belongings out of his pocket as he set the grip on the bed, Garret enlarged it and began the task of unpacking a few items. Clean clothes for the next day where he would be collecting some needed information as well as getting to Gringott's to open a new vault; then off for a little shopping, maybe an Owl for personal letters, or flying squirrel. 'Now there's an idea, I could call him Rocky and get him some goggles and an aviator's cap. Rocky the Flying Squirrel post delivery. There's a novelty waiting to happen… I'll do it!'

The idea so intrigued him that he couldn't wait to get started on it. One way to rattle the wizarding world is to take the bizarre and unusual that they take for granted and tweak it into the utterly surreal. 'There might even be a few muggle-born that would appreciate the joke. Have to find a sound effects charm to replicate a jet engine.' He thought, as he continued to unpack.

He had just finished unpacking what he assumed was the prior renters favorite sneakers and jeans with a plain black Tee shirt. 'Now that won't do, that won't do at all.' He mused silently. 'Gonna have to go into muggle London for some properly printed Tee's too; now what should I have printed on the new ones?' He quietly considered barking spiders and geese under chairs, but decided against the ideas for now. They were a bit too esoteric for wizards; even muggles might not understand the references. 'I'll come up with something though, I'm sure of it… maybe something to do with lemon sherberts'?'

He was interrupted in his musing by a knock at his door and then it opened to show Tom Dodderidge with a meal in his hands and a mirror under one arm. "Let me take that from you Tom, I'm starved for real food. You wouldn't believe it, but muggle airline food has got to be the most indigestible garbage known to man, including military and hospital food. I wouldn't be surprised if cardboard tasted better. I've never had cardboard, maybe I should try it once to be sure of my comparison." He said as he took the tray from the innkeeper.

"I wouldn't know, sir. The missus and I don't get to travel very much. And we've never gone on muggle transport."

"I don't recommend it Tom, though it _is_ more comfortable than portkeys." Garret said, as he watched the innkeeper exchange mirrors with a small amount of argument from the enchanted one. 'Who would have thought that a mirror would have pride in its job?' he thought. 'Then again, it is talking about how it enjoys pointing out visible flaws in fat women.'

"Tom Dodderidge!" the exasperated mirror exclaimed. "I've been here thirty years. You will not take me down! Where else will I find entertainment? Just last week that revolting toad looking woman was here with that odd little man that wears the green bowler. You would think he'd take off the hat while doing **that**… And her with the horrible pink thing she wore. It was all I could do to impart some fashion advice before they left. Would you believe they actually threatened to cast a bludgeoning hex at me? All I was doing was offering help. They didn't need to be so rude. It's not my fault they have no fashion conscious."

It was clear that if the mirror had limbs there would have been a massive wrestling match going on.

"Just shut up mirror! Our new guest has had problems with mirrors in the past, and I am tempted to risk seven years bad luck myself at this point!" Tom said by way of explanation that he was none too happy with the enchanted devices himself. After putting a silencing charm on the mirror, he turned to Garret and asked, "What time would you like to be wakened tomorrow sir?"

"Not very early Tom. To be honest, I would prefer to sleep until I wake on my own. But, since you ask, and I do have some things that need to be taken care of, if you could be sure I'm awake no later than eleven?"

"Certainly, Mr. Evans; eleven o'clock it is then. Enjoy your meal and just put the plates in the hall when you're done." The Innkeeper said as he closed the door behind himself.

Putting a warming charm on the food, Garret went to bathe.

A nice bath, a decent meal and a good night's sleep did wonders for Garret. He woke to the light tapping at the door from Tom, who let him know it was quarter to eleven. He gathered his things and performed the morning rituals that all men seem to perform. While shaving, he thought about how he would approach the Goblins. He had the feeling that he would eventually want them on his side in any conflict that might arise.

He knew it wasn't something normal for humans and Goblins to be friends, especially since the Goblin Accords of sixteen-twelve. He knew he'd figure something out though. He'd always been able to at least make friendly enemies, if not outright friends with people most would have considered unapproachable. It was a talent his mother had instilled in him in the other life that had belonged to him. The family credo had been 'there's no such thing as a stranger, only a friend ya ain't met yet.'

After taking the time for a small brunch of toasted finger sandwiches and coffee, Garret found his way to the back of the Cauldron, facing the blank wall that was the concealed entrance to Diagon Alley. He tapped the bricks in the proper spots with the tip of his wand and watched as the bricks slid and shifted, forming the arched doorway. Doing his best to take the pathway in stride and appear as if it was normal, he set foot in the wizarding world proper for the first time.

The shops were something to behold, even with the small crowd of shoppers that were out. He couldn't claim to recognize all of the shops he could see. As they weren't described in detail in canon and there were a number that appeared to be completely forgotten about by canon. He could say that he had a (very) minor familiarity with Diagon Alley from his reading.

As a result, he knew just where he needed to go first. It was a good thing it had been described as a big snow white building. Gringott's, the Wizards Bank, where vault 687 patiently awaited the eventual arrival of Harry James Potter for his first year at Hogwarts. And the infamous vault 713, where the Philosopher's stone would be kept briefly at the same time. Vault 711 holding Harry's inheritance from his dogfather.

And currently, vault 529 holding Bellatrix LeStrange's fortune and the Hufflepuff cup.

Pausing for a moment in thought, Garret thought about the ways he would have to go about obtaining that particular artifact. He had no desire to break in and ride a dragon out after stealing the goblet. That would be a sure way to antagonize the Goblins, definitely not on his to do list. 'Never make an enemy of the people that watch your gold for you,' would be a good axiom for the Wizarding world to follow.

Too bad the wizards were so blatant in their idiocy or they would understand that particular philosophy. But, he wasn't there to debate with himself over the shortsightedness of the wizarding community; he was there to open a vault. Walking through the main doors of the bank, after it was held open by a Goblin guard; Garret approached the first teller that seemed to be less busy than the rest.

While waiting in line, he checked his pocket to be sure the trunk that Hecate had given him was with him, along with the file folder of information from the investigators real Garret had hired. After an interminable time, the teller finally called him up, "Yes, what might I do for you human?" the teller asked in barely veiled contempt.

Looking at the nameplate on the counter before him, Garret read, 'Knutpincher; Teller Third class.' and thought to himself about the name of the poor being in front of him. 'Knutpincher… I'm glad my parents weren't Goblins.' As he said, "Yes, Mr. Knutpincher; I was just down the way at Flourish and Blott's; perusing the dusty tomes therein. When I came all over peckish, whereupon I ceased my literary search and strolled here to your establishment, where I would like to pick up a light snack of cheesey comestibles."

"You are aware that this is a bank and not a cheese shop?" Knutpincher asked with one eyebrow raised at the strange human before him.

"As a matter of fact, I am. You had to ruin a good bit didn't you Knutpincher? Well, since you won't cooperate with me, I shall just have to ask about opening a new account."

Seeing that the human was truly lucid and aware of his surroundings, the Goblin asked, "Very well, how much will you be depositing to open your new account?"

"You see, that's the problem. What I have to deposit is more of the unminted variety and would need to be sold first in order to have galleon's with which to put into a vault, thus I find myself in a bit of a dilemma regarding it."

"Do you have the 'unminted' materials with you _sir_?" came the question with a tiny bit of surliness added.

"Yes, I do. But, I'd rather not enlarge the trunk in public. There might be a bit of a ruckus started if I were to do so."

"Follow me then." The Goblin said with a resigned sigh. Couldn't humans be more cooperative and just do what was asked at the counter, rather than waste time and money by forcing teller's to take them to the private meeting rooms for trivial matters? Knutpincher was certain that the human following him would have a few pounds of gold bars and believed he had a good deal. The human seemed different than the rest of the wizards that frequented Gringott's on a daily basis. But he wouldn't be too surprised to find that this human was just as impatient and obnoxious as the rest.

Knutpincher held open the door for Garret and they both entered the private general use office just off the main Lobby. Once the door was closed securely, Garret reached into his pocket and set the shrunken trunk on the floor. "Before I do anything, I want to impart that I will need to draw my wand in order to enlarge my trunk. Will drawing my wand be alright while in Goblin territory?"

"We are well aware of the sizing charms wizards use, rest assured, if you point the wand anywhere but that trunk, you will be dead before you can make it to the door." The Goblin snarled in impatience.

"Good to know that Pinkerton's has nothing on Goblin security. Maybe you guys should buy them out."

"Just get on with it human, time is valuable!" the Goblin said with an even more impatient response. Garret was doing his level best to annoy Knutpincher. He had already decided against asking that one to take over the responsibilities for managing the new Evans Family accounts. Maybe he'd be lucky and find a Goblin he recognized from his reading. That would be humorous in the extreme he thought. He just hoped that it wouldn't be Lightfinger or Snatchwallet. Those two were certainly thieves. He wouldn't even consider Griphook, the traitorous little bastard.

"Very well, I just wanted to make sure it was okay before I did anything. But since you've said it is, here goes." And with that, Garret gestured with his wand and tapped the trunk, which then began to expand in size from the Barbie Playhouse version into the full sized, extra large Steamer Trunk you would have seen someone like Molly Brown using at the turn of the twentieth century. He stepped back as the trunk enlarged to normal size and waited for the Goblin to gesture to open it.

This was the first time that Garret had opened it since he had received it in a moment of needing to be in a hurry, and then once he was in England, he had been too worn out to bother. It was all he could do to keep his own surprise off his face when he opened first one compartment and then the next. The Goblin standing behind him gasped at the sight of so much gold in the first compartment, and then nearly choked when the second was opened.

Clearly doing his best to be friendly toward Garret, Knutpincher caught his breath. "If you can wait a moment, I must retrieve a manager. I do not have the authority to act on such a large deposit." He explained.

"Sure, go ahead. I have plenty of time."

Garret took a seat in one of the chairs that he'd turned to face the trunk. 'Holy mother of Donald Trump! Hecate wasn't joking when she said it was a lot of gold!' he thought to himself as he waited the return of Knutpincher and a manager. His wait wasn't very long, who would have thought that a Goblin could run that fast with those tiny little legs? It was barely two minutes before the door re-opened to reveal Knutpincher and another Goblin that Garret liked the look of immediately. As far as Goblins were concerned, this one was very handsome for his people; the spiky hair was well looked after, while the craggy face was almost gentle looking. The eye's held intelligence that warned that he would be very happy to rob you blind.

The Goblin held the demeanor of your average sleazy used car salesman. 'This is the kind of person I can work on… with, that's right, with!' Garret proclaimed to himself.

'With a face like that, who'd not want to run for the hills protecting their valuables all the way?'

The Goblin approached him and turned to look into the trunk, which Garret obligingly opened both compartments again for viewing. He then pulled the drawer with the gems open and the new Goblin gasped silently. Garret was hard pressed not show his own surprise at the amount of raw gems. "Mister…" The Goblin began.

"Evans, Garret Evans."

"Mr. Evans, my name is Grabpockets. This is rather a substantial amount to be depositing in such a form. I assume that you would wish to have some galleons available for purchases from your vault?"

"You assume rightly Mr. Grabpockets. How would we go about exchanging my gold bars into galleons?'

Taking a seat behind the desk, with Knutpincher standing beside him, Grabpockets spoke, "We, Gringott's, would buy the gold from you to have it processed into galleons for later dispersal into the economy Mr. Evans. The gemstones would be another matter; we could buy them as they are, or, have them appraised and then have them cut for you, which will of course be charged back to you for the work involved. Or we could leave them as they are until you decide what you wish to do with them. I would recommend that you retain them for now as they are."

Nodding his head at the advice, Garret replied, "Thanks. That's the kind of advice I would like to have regarding my money. Mr. Grabpockets, what are the bank policies regarding single manager appointment to an account? I wouldn't like to have a different manager every time I come in for some account maintenance."

"Normally the Director of the Bank and the Goblin Council would appoint a manager to an account. That is normally. With such a large initial deposit, it is within the scope of the new account holder to ask for a particular Goblin to oversee his accounts. At this point, it is up to you as to how we should approach the issue. There is no advantage to choosing a Goblin over having one appointed by the Council however, apart from a minor familiarity to start."

"In that case I would like to ask for you to be my account manager."

"Why me, as opposed to Knutpincher here?"

"I like your face Mr. Grabpockets. Knutpincher looks like he would be willing to bear my children. You look like you would be more willing to turn my deposit into real money."

"Mr. Evans, I should point out, that your deposit is valued as 'real money' as you put it already. If we were to place this amount of gold into the economy immediately, the value of a galleon would plummet. We shall have to put it into circulation slowly, to allow the economy to absorb it rather than disperse it whole.

I thank you for your choice to have me as your manager and advisor. Knutpincher, you may leave now."

Knutpincher left with a small amount of grumbling at his misfortune of still not having an account to manage. Never coming to grips with the fact that while being surly to wizards is an enjoyable pastime, it doesn't help when a large depositor is choosing who is going to look after his money.

"Now that Knutpincher is gone, Mr. Evans, what is your real reason for choosing me over Knutpincher. I could very well be assigned to another account already, or accounts, making it more difficult to take care of your banking needs."

Garret scowled in thought for a moment, and then said, "I'm sure Knutpincher would be a good account manager, but he had claimed to not have the authority to handle the transaction as it was posed, and left to get you. I am operating on an assumption that he wouldn't have gone to an active account manager for this. I could be wrong, but, if you are working with active accounts, I am more than willing to accept whatever manager the Council appoints."

Grabpockets grimaced in what passes for a smile on a Goblin and said, "An appointee by the Council is unnecessary Mr. Evans. As you have guessed, I have no current active accounts for which I am responsible. This means that I am able to take your account on and oversee it. And with the amount of galleons represented here in your unminted gold, it appears that I may be very lucky indeed and only have your account to handle. Unlike many of the smaller accounts that receive the attention of a manager, your account will be large enough to require full time attention.

Assuming you desire to invest your holdings, I can foresee a great boon to us both. Unfortunately, the amount of gold you have brought in today represents a good deal more than we have currently available in minted coin to purchase from you. How would you like to proceed Mr. Evans?"

Giving it some hard thought for a few moments, Garret said. "To be perfectly honest, Mr. Grabpockets, I have absolutely no idea how to begin. Investing has always been a little bit of a mystery to me and I just wouldn't have the foggiest idea how to start… I really don't care where you invest, as long as it is legal and earns more money. As far as the converting my gold into galleons, I'm more than willing to allow you all the time you need in order to work it into the economy."

"Very well Mr. Evans. Where may I direct Owls in order to reach you?"

"I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron for now, room 15. Could you have some of this converted into muggle currency as well? I'm going to need to look into buying a house and I would rather live in the muggle side."

"We could do that. Or we could establish an account for you with the Bank of London. We own it you see, and any purchases you would make with that account, checking, credit and debit cards would be reflected through your Gringott's account. You would only have an account with the Bank of London on paper, so to speak. You would even receive a monthly statement from them if you like."

"Oh! That is a tremendous convenience Mr. Grabpockets! Thank you. It'll save me no end of headache setting up a muggle account and then trying to buy a house. At least the financial side will be a lot easier."

"Mr. Evans, Gringott's is a full service bank. When you find the home you wish to purchase, bring me the paperwork and we will obtain the home for you. This is a service we here at Gringott's reserve for our larger depositors. To date there are only ten or so, with you joining their ranks, I can extend this privilege to you."

"Thank you. I'd always wondered what it meant when people spoke of Gringott's being a 'full service' bank." Garret admitted.

"We have an extensive list of services available to our depositors Mr. Evans."

"In that case, I have something I would like to bring up Mr. Grabpockets. You see; I recently found out that I have family living here in England, and I already have had some investigators look into it. They have provided me some information that I would like to have verified. Is it possible to have Gringott's do this for me?"

"Of course, Mr. Evans, of course, it merely costs money. All our services have a price, but with the amount you are depositing, the price will be minimal in comparison. In fact I could probably have it considered a free service for such a large depositor."

With that admission from the Goblin, Garret reached into his pocket and brought out the shrunken folder that held the information that the previous entity known as Garret Evans had collected. He tapped the folder with his wand and it expanded to its original size. He then handed it to Grabpockets with a toothless grin.

"Thank you for being willing to help out Mr. Grabpockets! I'm kind of excited to finally meet the sisters I never knew. I hope it doesn't take very long for you to find them for me. I was born here in England, but I grew up in the States. My dad never said anything about mom or the girls, at least to me. I didn't find out about them until after he died and I was going through his papers."

"This sort of situation does happen fairly often Mr. Evans, I anticipate the investigation to take no more than a few weeks, certainly no more than a month or two. I will keep you informed as to our progress. With the information you have provided it may even take less time."

"I truly do appreciate this Mr. Grabpockets." Garret smiled.

"Think nothing of it Mr. Evans, Gringott's is more than pleased to extend the service." Grabpockets straightened the papers in the folder and looked up into the face of his new client. "Will there be anything else today Mr. Evans?"

"I was hoping to buy a few books, and possibly go into Muggle London to buy a vehicle. Would it be possible to have some money made available to me for those purposes?"

"Of course. I will have five percent of one of these compartments converted to galleons immediately Mr. Evans. If you can return after an hour or so, I will have your account information brought to you, both of your accounts, muggle and Gringott's. This information will include a checkbook for the Bank of London and your cards, as well as the deposit book. I hesitate to have any more than five percent of one compartment converted to currency, even that five percent would be a very large amount. In fact I would recommend you keep most of your gold as it is for now.

As I said earlier, in your possession there is enough gold to disrupt the economy to a degree that would take the better part of ten years to absorb. If we trickle it into the system over time, probably the same length of time, it would harm nothing and would allow you more control over it."

"Whatever is most practical Mr. Grabpockets, I really have no urgent need for that much gold to be made available as currency. Although it might be fun to roll around in it, I see no point in doing so." Garret admitted. "Oh, by the way, I will very likely be making other large deposits sometime in the future, nothing like today. What I expect to be depositing is already minted and in the economy. So I don't think it would impact anything.

I have some holdings back home that are being sold for me and the payments will be sent to me by Owl in more shrunken trunks. I have no idea how much it will be at this time, the broker is selling it all on consignment."

"I hope the broker is trustworthy Mr. Evans." Grabpockets said as they both stood.

"I believe he is Mr. Grabpockets. If not I can always hire Gringott's to show him that I am unhappy with his results?"

"The account information will be here by the time you return Mr. Evans, and I will have a moke skin bag with five thousand galleons brought to you immediately. I must now go and begin the process of obtaining a vault for you and tying it to the Bank of London account, it should not take more than the time required for you to have a meal. If you could return this afternoon, everything regarding your accounts will have been taken care of." Grabpockets said as he placed some documents before Garret.

"Thank you Mr. Grabpockets. You have no idea how much this takes off my mind… What will be done with my trunk and gold that hasn't been converted?" As he signed the contracts laid before him by the Goblin, reading them, Garret could see very little difference between them and bank contracts he had read in his home reality.

"The trunk with the remaining gold and the stones will be placed in your new vault, unless you had another need for it? The Goblin asked.

"No, I was just curious. The trunk was a gift and I'd like to keep it safe. I probably will never see that friend again and every little thing matters you know."

"Of course Mr. Evans. The amount we have discussed will be converted into galleons and muggle currency by the time you return from your meal."

With that the Goblin left to carry out the task of changing the bars into Galleons and establishing the accounts for his new client. Garret waited only as long as it took for the moke skin bag to arrive before he left himself. He wasn't especially hungry at the moment, and decided he'd have a slightly larger meal that evening rather than have lunch. It was more pressing to obtain a few items of useful nature before he enacted his admittedly nebulous plan of proactive retribution on the Wizarding world.

Items like potion's kits, post owl charm books and related reading among them, along with a library and items trunk. Garret already had a trunk packed full of his worldly goods, but having one dedicated to his collection of useful would be more practical. He made sure he obtained several books on Cursebreaking, Occlumency and a raft of wizarding children's books. Harry's scar would have to be addressed fairly soon after all, as well as his education of things magical.

Proactive revenge on behalf of Harry Potter would be entertaining he thought. He couldn't wait to get the kid under his wing. Unfortunately, he had to. There was no need to advertise his presence to the more powerful pieces presently on the board.

Pieces like Dumbledore, Snape, Lucy, and Fudgepacker.

Not directly anyway. Anonymous owls would be very useful. He stopped at the stationary shop and picked up several rolls of parchment and a box of dicta-quills along with a few standard quills and ink. He shrank the purchases and went on. 'Better be sure to stop at a muggle stationary shop soon, and pick up some calligraphy pens. Quills will just wear out way too fast. And brass will take enchantments much easier.'

He had an idea he was going to experiment with later. A nearly flawless way to forge handwriting by using the dicta-quills or calligraphy pens. He'd have to try to obtain a few samples of the handwriting of certain key obstacles to Harry's happiness. Garret was fairly sure that Dumbledore, Snape and Lucy would be simple to get samples of. Others like Fudge, Umbridge and Molly Weasley wouldn't be as easy, but not impossible. Given the poor security in place at the Ministry he felt he should be able to get samples from nearly every witch and wizard in England if he wanted.

Garret shook his head ruefully at the thought of trying to hear the voice of every witch and wizard once and keeping them sorted in his mind. He felt he'd have a few mainstay voices to use for his idea and possibly a few more for impersonation. Keying the talent that Hecate had adjusted to replicate everyone would be too much he thought. It was a good thing he actually had to 'switch on' his hearing to pick up subtleties and inflections, otherwise he'd be using a different voice every time he opened his mouth.

Besides, it's always better to do a few things really well rather than everything badly. Luckily, he'd also seen the Potter movies and, after meeting Tom Dodderidge and shopping in Flourish and Blott's, Garret felt certain that the voices he'd already heard from the movies would suffice for the most part. From what he could tell, all the people he could see around Diagon Alley were living examples of the wizarding world as portrayed by actor's back in his home reality.

He began to truly look forward to playing with the minds of so many nitwits. Garret also began to wonder how much he should change for Harry ahead of time. As much as it pained him to admit it to himself, Garret knew he shouldn't alter too much. Otherwise events would spiral out of his control and he'd lose the advantages of his knowledge of coming events. Change one sentence in a script and the whole dynamic could change beyond recognition. Then again, gleefully tossing a few hands full of sand into Dumbles gears would be very entertaining. He then remembered that the future events were completely different already with the mere fact that Lupin and Black were already dead.

Future events as he knew them would only be a possible guideline, and that would be questionable at best. 'I suppose I can go wild and damage all of them as much as I like without worry in that case.' Garret admitted to himself with an immature twinkle that promised mayhem in his eye.

Musing on what he was going to accomplish in secret, and what he could get away with in the open, Garret window shopped until it was time to return to Gringott's for his papers and Vault Key.

When he retrieved the Key, Garret asked Grabpockets how he could go about making the Key secure to where only he could use it. This resulted in learning that while simple to make this happen, most magicals either didn't think of it, or were too afraid of pain. All that was required was a drop of blood taken from the marrow of the owner. This would prevent anyone other than the owner of a Vault, or his descendants and Goblins for account maintenance, from using the Key. Those Goblins would be answerable to the Account Manager.

Goblins apparently are the authority on Blood Magicks in the world.

Garret agreed with the assessment that Grabpockets had made concerning this particular security measure. When the two of them secured Garrets key with his Blood, it hurt like… 'I have nothing to compare it to!' The recent wizard decided. Even saying it hurt like HELL was too mild. 'Maybe, hurting like a triple by-pass and four root canals without sedation performed through my left foot?' After that, Garret decided that once was more than enough. Goblins don't use anesthetic. 'At least it was over quick!' Garret thought.

The following days were spent by Garret buying a black Land Rover and obtaining the proper British licensing to operate it on the English roads. And house shopping. He'd found a small agency in the outskirts of London that managed to have a large listing of available homes. After some minor deliberation and driving back and forth between the three finalist houses, he had decided on a two story home in Kensington that was within walking distance of one of the higher quality schools, provided the child passed the aptitude tests.

'Damned silly socialist belief systems!' he thought to himself. 'If I trusted my own skills as an educator I'd home school the kid myself! I'll just have to make sure he knows to not take everything said as gospel. Maybe I should hire tutors?'

The house was in a quiet neighborhood with several other houses of the same value. It was a moderately wealthy area with a park centrally located between the school and the housing district. There were shops within minutes of the house and plenty of children in the neighborhood so Harry could have opportunity for friends.

The Goblins were true to Grabpockets word. In no time at all, the house had been purchased in Garrets name and fully furnished. While the movers were busy moving in the furniture and the interior designer was establishing the feel and look of the individual rooms, Garret busied himself in the backyard with lumber and tools he'd bought. In his previous life he hadn't had one, but he always felt that a kid, especially a boy, needed to have a backyard fort, if not a treehouse. Sadly, there were no trees large enough to build the treehouse, but he could build the fort.

It was during one of the many explorations of the muggle-shopping district that Garret found some interesting items in a collectibles shop. For those not in the know, a proper collectible shop is not one where you find 'really valuable antiques for sale at a pittance because the owner is a moron'. A proper collectible shop has stacks and stacks of old comic books, board games like Dungeons and Dragons and a wall 'o' anime. Usually along with the wall of anime, they will also have action figures based on the characters from anime and manga on display for sale.

The specific shop Garret had stumbled over was a gold mine of forgotten memorabilia from ages past and present. Not only did they have action figures from Ranma and Sailor Moon, they also had the limited edition collectibles of live action TV from the States, such as F-Troop, Get Smart and Wild, Wild West, to name a few.

Seeing these dolls, Garret began thinking of something devilish to put them to use. Of course the figures would need a special boost of magic from a blood/clay mixture he'd have to make. He really didn't want to use his own blood for that. Animal blood wouldn't be as good as human blood, but Wizard blood would be best. While he was thinking on the recipe for the clay, he caught himself wondering what had possessed the previous renter to study old voodoo rituals and Hebraic magic. Shrugging his shoulders, Garret went on happily constructing the list of materials that he would need.

'Mebbe I'll be lucky and run into Thorfin or one of the Carrows for the blood!' He concluded.

But engorgio'd plastic golems with clay hearts weren't going make themselves. In a fit of silent giggles, Garret purchased several Happosai, a small handful of Maxwell Smart and a pewter jabberwocky… he needed a paperweight for his desk.

In fact the thoughts of the action figures brought the stirrings of a plan to storm the Ministry building. 'I'm gonna have to find an animation spell that also gives some autonomy to the mannequins.' Looking at one of the ninja suit clad miniatures of Happosai, he thought to the little figure, 'Happy, your 'silky darlings' are just going to have to be replaced with something a bit shinier.'

The action figures would do wonders for causing diversions and distractions, having people look other directions than where he happens to be. Making the purchase of the few items, along with a few of the older comics on display, Garret left, whistling 'If I only had a brain' from The Wizard of Oz jauntily.

The next evening, a certain grungy wizard was found completely unconscious on the steps of St. Mungo's, suffering from a massive blood loss. Mundungus Fletcher was quarantined for the next fortnight under suspicion of being the victim of a vampire, and then arrested after for having stolen goods on his person. The quarantine happened mostly because of the presence of two puncture wounds on the drunkard's neck. On a side note, Garret truly hoped the alcohol level contained in Dung's blood wouldn't cause problems with the clay he would mix it with.

Seven days later the Auror on duty over night at the Ministry would report that two suspicious individuals had arrived, one of them breaking into the Department of Mysteries and absconding with every last Time Turner on the premises. Along with all the Time Sand and documentation, loudly proclaiming "What A Haul, What a Haul!" Before disappearing in a flash of green fire in one of the deactivated floo's. Later magi-recordings of the night in question would show that just before he disappeared he shouted 'Tendo Dojo!' before swirling away. This was an unknown address and when the DMLE attempted to follow to the address it had apparently been closed down.

The other individual was a muggle, this one they were able to get a name on. Maxwell Smart, some sort of American special agent. The Auror on duty tried to apprehend him as well. But the strange muggle stepped to the side at the last possible moment and then said, "You missed me by that much!" while holding his thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart. He then punched the Auror, who fell to the floor, and fled through the Ministry lift to the phone booth, where he promptly also vanished. No one would ever connect the tiny figure of a man in the alleyway to the tuxedo-suited individual that called himself Maxwell Smart.

All in all a pretty bad night for the lone Auror guard posted at the Ministry. Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, a seven-year veteran in the service, lost two stripes for his failure and sent to remedial Auror training with a warning that the next time it would be the sack.

The magi-recorders never detected one other presence within the Ministry that night. That would be for the simple fact that he was under a powerful invisibility spell and a wide range of muffling and silencing charms. When Garret released the Happosai golem, it was with the clear knowledge that the moment the preprogrammed figure would follow it's script and be reduced to a swirling mass of green fire with the trigger phrase 'Tendo Dojo'. He had no remorse over the loss of the golem. And there certainly was no loss of the terribly useful items called Time Turners. While the diminutive representation of a little pervert from Japan was making a spectacle of itself, Garret was in the process of collecting the Turners and all the Time Sand, the scrolls and books for the construction, repair and maintenance of the items. He promptly used one to spin back two hours to watch his handiwork in the upper halls.

He thanked Hecate and whoever might be listening for the silencing charms; otherwise he would have been caught. His sides hurt from laughter as he watched the ninja clad near dwarf bouncing around the Atrium like a demented Ping-Pong ball, dodging curses and stunners right and left. If the thing had been a real person one would think it nervy to actually leap to Shacklebolts bald scalp and kick off hard enough to slam the burly black man into a wall. This tactic was intended to anger the man and it succeeded beyond anything that Garret had hoped for.

And while Maxwell was being chased all over the upper part of the Ministry, Garret was in the Hall of Prophesies.

Anyone that might have been able to hear him would have thought it odd for the man to be talking to himself. Garret had a bad habit when it came to self conversation, in his previous life when others had pointed it out, he would only say that it was the most intelligent discourse he'd had all day. Of course this would annoy whoever had mentioned it. Which was the point behind Garrets retort. "Now, lemme see… silly thing is in the nineties if I remember correctly." His soft voice reached only his ears.

Grinning a bit like a lunatic, Garret arrived at his destination and reached for the sphere as he said. "Yep, thought it'd be in the nineties." He stayed his hand before it touched the crystal surface of the Prophesy Sphere. "hhhhhmmmmm… From S.P.T. To A.P.W.B.D.; Dark Lord and (?) Harry Potter. Goofy old fart! If fumbles hadn't answered the stupid press with his suspicions and just said the kid had survived the destruction of his home, the entire thing would have been a lot easier on Harry. But NOOOOOOOOOOO, he has to come out and say something ridiculous, 'Voldemort was defeated by Harry Potter', That just reeks of idiocy.

Wonder what was going through the old Nellie's head when he made the statement?" here Garret paused for a moment and then said, "Prolly not much, as his autonomic functions were struggling for a breath until he farted! Idiot old manipulator..."

Garret then placed his hand on the smooth surface of the sphere and grasped it. He tried to lift it, but the object wouldn't come free. At this point he was tempted to just destroy the damned thing. But he remembered that old Fondlesmore had heard it originally and kept a copy of his memory in a bottle in his Office. Taking a breath, Garret addressed the sphere, "Look, I understand that you really should only be taken by a principle that you are about, I really do. But you have to understand. I'm Harry Potters real Uncle and I promise to give you to him when he's old enough to deal with it. Now you can come quietly, or I can just go ahead and reduce you to splinters and leave the fake like I planned."

He hadn't taken his hand from the globe and tugged it again after he'd spoken. There seemed to be some reluctance on the part of the Prophecy Sphere, but it left the niche and settled into his hand without any further difficulty. After putting it into an enlarged pocket in his black duster, Garret summoned an empty sphere from the rack near the far wall and thought about what he was going to use to replace the real one.

At the time it would become an item of importance, Voldemort would be quite annoyed with Luscious when he was treated to Monty Python performing the fish dance and the "Dead Parrot Sketch".

Leaving the Hall of Prophesies, Garret found his way to the Veil room. Here he took some magical scans of the Veil and recorded his results in a little fat notebook he pulled from another pocket of his duster. He had some ideas about setting some special wards into the frame that would act as a magnet for anyone marked, sucking them into the void on the other side and cleaning the wizarding world up a touch. That would require some reading to accomplish however. He had a few years in which to play around with wards. In fact, he knew where there would be two unwilling guinea pigs maybe three for his tests.

"Snidely, and the rat… oh, am I gonna have fun at YOUR expense."

By the time he was finished with everything he was needing to do that evening at the Ministry, the building was fairly crawling with blue robed Aurors and one of them looked to be chewing the ears off Shacklebolt. With the general noise level being quite high, the sounds of the lift door opening were well covered. A parting shot as a gift to Shacklebolt was an annoyance jinx cast on the superior that was raking him over the coals. The following days and weeks would show a decided tendency of people avoiding the man, and never shaking his hand.

It seemed he was completely unaware of his near constant rubbing of himself. Over time, people assumed that Rufus Scrimgour was just a disgusting man and mostly ignored him. It was then that his political aspirations became impossible to achieve.

Garret almost felt sorry over what he was responsible for when he eventually found out about poor Shacklebolt. Almost, he then remembered all the times that Shacklebolt could have done the right thing regarding Harry and turning in Dumbledore to the Director of the DMLE when he became aware of the kids home life. After he remembered that, he couldn't be bothered for feeling guilty. If it had been Tonks he would have felt like a right royal heel. She had only been a junior Auror at that point and easily manipulated not being that long out of Hogwarts.

For some reason he couldn't bring himself to put any blame on some of the peripheral characters, while others he could pile a lot onto. As a result, Garret tried not to think too much about them. He tried to refuse to feel guilty when he had an idea to prank the life out of one of them. It wasn't like he was actually going to kill them, just wreck their careers. Or in a few cases, ruin their home life as well… Luscious and Corncob were going to rue the day they'd been born.

One morning, around a week after his assault on the Ministry, Garret woke thinking to himself that he ought to do something that the previous renter might have done in the same position. Even though it was a tad early, not having received any confirmation from the Goblins yet. But he had an almost palpable urge to visit the small cemetery in Godric's Hollow.

Wandering about the house he'd purchased through the Goblin's, Garret argued the pros and con's of this hypothetical visit to the grave of his dead sister. Lily Evans Potter, the sister who would have turned out to be his favorite, if he'd actually been Garret Evans. He couldn't shake the feeling that she would have accepted the sordid history of the real Garret and the circumstances of his birth. After quite awhile of talking to himself about it, Garret finally succumbed to the need to slake his curiosity and just go.

Andy Tonks was in her back garden working with her tulips when she heard the unmistakable sound of someone apparating out. She wasn't at all surprised to find that it was her newest neighbor, as the sound had originated from over the fence that separated the two gardens. She'd noticed that he was a wizard, but surprisingly dressed in a much better fashion than other wizards do when it came to muggle clothes. He didn't appear as some sort of homeless oddball in his clothes like other wizards do. Despite the odd legends he had printed on the majority of his tee shirts. This made her assume he was a muggle-born.

Andy was also quite taken with his accent, ever since he had moved in she made a point to try to find out more about him, especially since he'd spent all that time building that odd little structure in the back. He had a habit of talking to himself and some of the things he would say could be considered odd, if a bit humorous. Especially some of the things he said about Dumbledore. It had taken her a bit to recognize another of the people he would mention when he was 'making plans'. It turned out to be one of her Housemates from her Hogwarts days. Severus Snape was going to be rather embarrassed, and quite often from the sounds of some of the plans she would overhear. She nearly burst with held in laughter when she heard the plan about making the mans feet squeak, not his shoes, with the squelching sound one would get from stepping into exceptionally damp animal… complete with the smell. Or the one where Snape would have a permanent sticking charm applied to the interior of his shoes. An irritation jinx on his underwear, something called Nair in his shampoo, then the young man decided that one wouldn't work because Snape doesn't appear to have ever washed his hair.

She was sure that the young man had never met Severus Snape, at least not to her knowledge. But the prank planning she would over hear would have done her favorite cousin and his best friends proud.

Apart from his tendency to talk to himself when he was in his back garden, Andy thought he was a nice young man, with a strange but fun sense of humor.

Of course she hadn't taken the time to introduce herself yet. She had noticed that the young man didn't appear to have a girlfriend; let alone a wife, despite the care he seemed to put into setting up his house. Why he would say things like, 'The kid ought to like the fort. I just wish I had a tree big enough to build a treehouse instead, he'd really like that.' Or, 'Get him a dog? Or would he rather have something fun, like a goldfish? Hamsters are completely out of the question; those damned sit-com nightmares I have are quite enough! I know; I'll get him a dogfish, call it Sneak-fin!'

'Yes, he's an amusing youth. And with his apparent sense of humor and behavior, almost certainly a good match for my daughter. The best part is, he's a wizard so there won't be any of that explaining the wizarding world to a muggle, although, if he were a muggle he'd probably be quite entertained by it. Now, to set things up in the right way.' Andy thought as she finished weeding the flowerbed and went inside for tea.

She felt the need to impose a 'Betrothal' upon her daughter for the girl's protection, especially after Nymphadora's first year at Hogwarts, when Snape had intentionally let out the secret of her talent of Metamorphmagus. Ever since, there had been a nearly unending stream of rude boys that often tried to take advantage of her daughter and Andy was incensed about it.

Someone strong with a good sense of humor, warped appearing as it seemed, would be perfect for the Tonks teen, that he was reasonably attractive didn't hurt either. 'Now, how do I go about it?' she thought to herself as she poured a cup of tea and sat down to a small snack.

It was early afternoon when there was a pop at the apparition point near the secluded cemetery and wizarding monument to the Potters. Looking around he was annoyed that there were no others in the area, apart from Mrs. Bagshot peering from her window at who would be coming to visit the monument. He noticed, from the corner of his eye, the old woman shaking her head and turning from the window. 'PPhhhhhhh… nosy old prune. Wonder why she didn't write an expose on the old twinkler herself, rather than wait until Harry was in his sixth year to give that shrew with the poison pen an interview? Gotta be an imponderable, cuz I ain't gonna ask her myself!' He then strolled casually to the gate of the cemetery and entered.

He found the marker for his sister and brother-in-law in due course, and was quite shocked to see the condition of the gravesite and tombstone. It appeared to be rather unkempt and a little over grown with weeds. 'Now that just isn't right! These people are supposed to be heroes of the wizarding world and their graves are left uncared for? 'Nother reason to prank the life outta old whiskers and that greasy bastard Snape. SOB makes claims to loving Lily and never comes to her grave and tends to it? All I have to say about that is Barbara Streisand!'

Mumbling to himself about delusional and pompous bastards he set about clearing the weeds away. He hadn't thought to pick up flowers for the two people he was sure he would have enjoyed knowing and felt a little guilty about it. After he was done cleaning and squaring the debris and weeds away, the plot looked much better. Leaving, he returned a few minutes later with a pair of planters containing a selection of spring flowers. His assumption that Lily would have liked her namesake and (shudder) Petunias, he set them on either side of the large memorial Headstone. He cast a permanence charm on the planters after he had adjusted them to the best appearance.

Stepping back he looked at his handiwork and spoke softly, so that only his sister and brother-in-law could hear. If they had been alive that is. "Lily, James, I know the two of you don't know me. And are probably very much aware that in one sense I could be considered an imposter. But, here and now, in this world I am Garret, your half-brother. I'm also very sure that you are getting to know your little brother now on the other side. If you can hear me, I would like to let you know none of this was my idea. I don't even want to try and figure out what was going through Hecate's mind when she brought me here."

"It's alright, we don't hold you accountable Mr… Well, I suppose using the real name wouldn't matter would it? I'm Lily, and Garret was rather upset to find out that he was never to meet his nephews. He's doing well, the Marauders have taken him under their wing and the four of them are planning pranks on a fellow here named Max." A voice came from beside him. "I find myself feeling a bit sorry for Maxwell. Of course he did bring it upon himself."

Looking to his left, where the voice had come from he saw Lily. The descriptions he'd read didn't do the woman justice, she was a lovely and petite woman, well, ghost. Her body was iridescent and seemed to glow on it's own. Not surprising, as that would be the condition of anyone sent from the heavenly plane to interact with a mortal. Her clothing wasn't diaphanous or anything of the kind, she appeared to be a typical young woman wearing the style of 1981, a nice sweater and a pair of heavy jeans. He couldn't make out her footwear, as she faded at those extremities. "Thank you for the flowers dear. It's a lovely gesture."

"You're welcome. Uuhm, not to quibble or anything, but aren't there rules for communicating with the living?" Garret asked.

"The council decided that I would be allowed to speak to you if you ever came here." She explained. "Now, I have to ask that you not do anything too horrible to our sister. Petunia is tremendously jealous that I had magic and she didn't, and given the way she's turned out, it might be a good thing. You do realize that Albus is going to be exceedingly put out when you retrieve Harry?"

"Oh, yes. I have already taken that into account. I promise not to do anything too extreme to Tooney, but Vermin is going to have a very bad life. In fact I am planning on something that will take months to work out. And one that will be a life long affliction."

Looking a little pensive, Lily then said, "Garret, for you are now my brother Garret, I'm so sorry for you being brought here. Honestly, when I saw how things were going I asked for someone to intervene on Harry's behalf. I thought it would be Fate or Destiny who would step in. Imagine my surprise when the goddess of magic herself visited me. She told me she had a plan, and that it would work well because of all the misfortune that had befallen the Marauders. James and I were still dazed when Sirius arrived shortly behind us.

The three of us were horribly dismayed when Remus arrived last year, then this month when Hecate introduced my brother to me. Harry needs real Family, Garret, and as strange as it is, you will be a very good father figure for him.

All I ask is that you love him and protect him. And if possible, keep him from making the mistake of marrying that little Slytherin in Gryphindor colors!"

"Oh, make no mistake Lily. If I have my way, that little temper challenged fan-girl is going to be prevented from even darkening the doors of Hogwarts. What do you think, Durmstrang for the little potion pusher?"

Pursing her lips for a moment, Lily thought, "That might get her out of trouble, but I do like your idea of possibly finagling a betrothal between the little glutton and that odd looking boy Victor."

"Ah, Lily, that was supposed to be a surprise!" Garret pouted, then smiled at his dead sister. "Lily, I can't honestly say I love you sis, but I do wish I had gotten to know you. I also hope you won't be too upset when I go after your old friend the stalker."

"Severus? After what Hecate told me about what he will be doing to my son, I want him to suffer as much as humanly possible. If you can Garret, get that man away from the students of Hogwarts. He's turned out to be a vile and cruel bully. He's always been the way he is; James and Sirius explained most of the reasons they continued to persecute him in school. I can't say as I blame them either. Hexing people from behind and running before he was found out, blaming others for his misfortunes, tormenting the younger years… the list goes on. Do what you have to.

By the way, I have no problem telling you I love you Garret. And I also wish we'd grown up together. You would have loved James."

The two visited for another hour before Lily's time was up, and Garret felt a lot better about his whole mission in this world. He actually had his sisters blessing to do everything he felt necessary to protect Harry and make sure the kid had a wonderful life from the time he would be rescued from Durzkaban.

Taking the fact that Lily blessed his endeavors meant, to his mind, that he had Holy Orders to persecute, prosecute and execute all the enemies of the wizarding world. He'd just be far more creative about it than most others would be.

A/N Yes, yer right. There is a Bank of England. I'm using artistic license here. That way the real bank can't complain at a later date.

Regarding reviews. I will probably answer any I receive directly and not make any statement in the story; mostly because I plan on having the story completed before I post it in entirety.

e'd already decided against approaching that one with the prospect of being the Account Manager for the new Evans family


	3. Chapter 3

Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom

**CHAPTER 3**

**Pranks for Fun and Profit**

**(More Fun than Profit)**

The middle of March saw Garret plotting another entry to the Ministry of Magic. On his first trip, he hadn't had the time available to obtain the writing samples he wanted. That and his dicta-quills hadn't been charmed in the way he wanted yet. Well, yes he did have time, but he really didn't want to run the risk of tripping over his earlier or older self while pursuing his premeditated proactive pranking plans.

Of course having a Time Turner on his person now; set up of some of the surprises he would be leaving made things much easier.

Back to the dicta-quills. He'd tried, he really had, but no matter what he did; he couldn't establish a single quill that would be able to forge the writing of more than one person. Dammit! So he primed each of the ones he would be using regularly with a forgers charm ready to accept the sample for each of the nitwits.

Garret had the basement prank lab set up at his house and had it well hidden for when the kid was moved in. Some of the weapons grade pranks were just too much for a child to be playing with. Especially the conjured mid-air anvils; granted these were only nerf with heavy fiberboard bases, but they did weigh enough to hurt. The '_**clang**_' sound effect made it seem worse than it was however. But that could be fixed at need.

The wall across from the door had a small writing desk with a rack of the quills, each with a name embossed on a small brass plaque. He had organized them in this way so that he wouldn't mix up which quill to use regarding which nimrod that would be the target of the reverse of the actual prank. The entire idea was to damage more than one target with every owl delivered prank warhead; more commonly known as a letter. To that end he needed the writing samples from a list of deserving targets.

Although there were one or two that he had plans for the use of that wouldn't actually be targets. Specks would never be a direct target, a useful impersonation none the less; any post with her name on it would be given a mark of authenticity immediately. Those would be the more creative pranks as well, no charms, jinxes or hexes used in the prank warhead. These would be more of the 'time delayed reduce the target to appearing foolish to everyone around them' variety. "I have gotta come up with better code names for these things!" Garret told himself aloud as he prepared to pop out from his backyard.

He didn't notice the woman that lived next door with the gleeful smile as he apparated.

Arriving at the Ministry after hours without any troubles, Garret cast a glamour charm and entered the disused phone booth in the side alley. Dialing 62442 and getting the magically rendered automated Ministry after hours nasally greeting of a woman asking his business he said. "Masked Marauder… pranking."

Collecting the button that popped out of the slot and putting it into his pocket he stepped into the Atrium toward the latest Auror guard. Looking at the nametag of the man, 'Rowan Marten', Garret had difficulty controlling his expression. 'Wonder if Ruth and Artie are around?' In moments, Garret had one of his spare wands weighed and inspected; his business verified, not that the man bothered to even look anything up. It helped that he handed over the wand taken from the mugger in America. No need to let any information about his real wand surface. Besides, it's much harder to track a wand that hasn't been registered with the Ministry.

Who would have thought that it would be that simple to get into the Ministry with the fabrication of a non-existent department? The moron didn't even bat an eye at the statement of "Late work for the Department of Proper Pranking of Pompous Poufs Foolish Ferrets Greasy Gits and Manipulative Old Bastards. Finkelstein… Andeluvien Finkelstein; Agent double oh six and three eighths… I have a license to shill." Garret wondered to himself if he'd be able to establish a money stream through a fake department. 'Nah… they couldn't be that stupid! Then again, they are wizards, and not terribly smart.' After all, the Ministry did have that idiot badge slot in the lift and the guards at the wand station ask your business too. If the wizards were bright they'd cut out the badges from the lift and leave it to the guards. Provided the guards would verify what they are told.

Sadly that takes common sense, something that is in extremely short supply in the wizarding world, much like it is when it comes to politicians and large corporations. One could call it a near extinct virtue.

What followed was a whirlwind of activity with Garret entering a number of offices on every level in the Ministry, leaving a present at every location that he visited. Minor gifts for each department head. Things like permanent sticking charms to chairs, diluted veratiserum in tea urns… delayed activity-triggered transfigurations, transparency jinxes, irritable bowel curses, flatulence hexes. In short, Garret was as creative as he could get. Poor Scrimgour wasn't going to catch a break in this, flatulence and irritable bowels… yep, right through a screen door without touching the wire. The poor man's political aspirations would plummet into the sewers.

In the Records Department Garret hit a gold mine of samples, nearly every person who'd ever applied for a Floo address had left a signature. Everyone who'd ever taken O.W.L.s had essays on file. There were reams of samples left by the Wizard of Idiom and his fellow 'educators' from the school. The Wizengamot had piles of hand written documents stored.

In a fit of greediness for the information provided, Garret promptly duplicated each and every document available in the department. He found it easier to do, rather than go through every thing looking for specific morons, he decided to take copies of all the documents available and go through it all at his leisure at home. It would be more efficient that way.

He'd also have an enormous amount of entertainment at some of the things wizards thought were important. It would also come in handy for researching Wizarding Law. 'Note to self, raid the Wizengamot Law Library… gotta see if the laws make as little sense as the wizards do. That and find out exactly what I can get away with. After all, no law against it, it ain't illegal!'

He even found the Ministry copy of the Book of Magical Birth's of England. The booby trap he put on that was quite innovative he thought. As tempting as it was to actually destroy the thing, setting it up to scramble the names and addresses into a mish-mash of semi-comprehensible names and addresses was a much better idea. Nothing like sending Pureblood morons on wild goose chases in their muggle hunting spree's. Nearly every address would have them arriving at the White Cliff's of Dover. Hopefully they'll misjudge and apparate or portkey in over the water.

As an afterthought he stopped by the Office for the Monitoring of Underage Magic Use. There he replaced the ink in Malfalda's ever fill quill with wizarding invisible ink. Then he switched the alarms around to indicate every time a snot from a Pureblood family used magic rather than muggleborn or half-blood. He also increased the sensitivity to the monitors. 'See about getting that fixed after I confund the equipment you nasty controlling cu… cumber.'

Making his way into the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot's office, Garret obtained a smile reminiscent of Gomez Addams. This would be the first use of what Garret called 'the Emperors New Clothes' jinx. The next meeting of the Wizengamot would be rather interesting with an apparently nekkid Albus Dumbledore presiding. Made more humorous by the fact that the old tinkerbell wouldn't be aware of it himself, because to his eyes there would be nothing amiss. As his robes would only be transparent until he returned to his office. Garret made mental note to not be at the Ministry that day. He couldn't afford the nightmares of a nude Fondlesmore wandering the halls. Even though Garret was and would be responsible for the slow erosion of the Headmasters credibility and political base, it was all he could do to keep his lunch down at the thought of such and old man naked.

Suppressing the shivers the mental picture caused; Garret went on to the next target of a 'gift'. The toad woman, someone that would be a recurring target in the rotation. Then again, nearly all of them would be in that rotation.

His self appointed task of applying appropriate acts of premeditated pranking mostly finished for this particular trip to the Ministry, Garret was sweeping along a hall that he hadn't realized existed; having not really been mentioned in canon. Displayed in this hall were trophies that the Ministry had collected over who knew how long. He should have expected it, considering how self-serving the politicians of the Wizarding World were. One of the closest cabinets to the Atrium exit was a clear case that held in its confines a yew wand.

This wand was proudly displayed with a happy and overly ridiculous brass plaque extolling the virtues of The-Boy-Who-Lived while explaining that this was indeed the wand of the dreaded dark thingy, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Without-Hyphens-Or-Overly-Vague-Terms-In-Reference. The double take that Garret took at the sight of this artifact was worthy of the most dedicated prankster. 'Idiots! If it had been me that put this thing up, I'd have snapped it. No problem though, ol' Tommy is gonna be the recipient of the Jason Jinx.'

Somewhere in Albania a dark spirit; having just drained another snake, shivered in response to a strange and unexpected stimulus of dread and fear for the future. Bizarre that a spirit can shiver in fear, doncha think? (Chop, Chop, Chop, Chop… kill, kill, kill, kill.)

Andromeda Tonks found it quite difficult to keep her snickers to herself when she read the morning Prophet. Her husband, Ted, had no such compunction. The headline was blaring in two inch print, 'New Fashions?' with the typical wizarding picture showing Albus Dumbledore walking calmly through the Ministry toward the Wizengamot Chambers with nary a stitch of clothing on, only his antique buckled shoes and hat. This was followed with an article that spoke of how the Grand Sorcerer behaved as if it were perfectly normal.

The next few articles seemed to be tied to the headline tale, complete with photo's showing Dolores Umbridge wearing bright yellow spandex. The Minister in a sequined evening gown… her own brother in law was caught in camera wearing a lavender zoot suit with extremely wide lapels and muggle style saddle shoes. The fuzzy felt hat and gaudy gold-topped cane topped the entire costume off. In short a pimp suit. Her brother-in-laws face screwed into a rictus of disgust from something apparently coming from the lion faced Auror to his left. There appeared to be a sort of cloud erupting behind him.

Andy hadn't had such a good laugh in years, not since the time that James and Sirius had placed a compulsion charm on Lucius to sing a muggle Christmas carol with a lisp and transfigured his clothes to look like a toddler in footy jammies. It was made more humorous by the fact it had happened in July before her fifth year.

Andy was having suspicions that her new neighbor might have had something to do with it, considering how he'd not acted surprised at the news stories later that day. And the fact that she had overheard some of the plans for just these very happenings reported in the Prophet. She'd finally introduced herself to him over the fence, offering afternoon tea. That was an odd conversation that she found entertaining as she reflected on it. (Picture the rippling of a fade out to a flashback)

Stepping into the back garden from the kitchen door, Andy noticed that the neighbor was home and outdoors in his own garden, pacing back and forth in front of the odd structure he'd built. Muttering, just loud enough to be heard, about setting up an animation charm on the stalker's shoes.

"Hello…" she called, as she lifted a small tray containing tea and biscuits. "I wonder if you would like tea?"

The young man stopped pacing and turned to face her. "Tea? No, I'm fine; I have my Aldeberan Whiskey. Would you like a taste, it's green?"

"Aldeberan…?"

"Whiskey, yes. Powerful drink, only a very small drop or two would be enough to really jazz up a cup of tea. That is if you don't mind feeling like you've had your head wrapped in a concrete blanket when you wake up later. Of course, if you'd rather not have that, how about a couple of Vindekian brownies?"

"As interesting as that might be, I was more interested in introducing myself; I'm Andromeda Tonks." She said while extending her free hand.

Andy was quite amused by the surprise and reaction to her name being mentioned. Eyes wide, and a minor stuttering voice Garret said, "Andromeda Tonks? You mean your name isn't Ethel Cravitz? Darnit, I was hoping to have a nosy neighbor lady that would be seeing things that were unexplainable. But now you tell me you're a witch!"

"Ethel Cravitz? … No, as I said, my name is Andromeda Tonks. How did you know I was a witch?"

"You have to be a witch. You have a stick poking out of your apron pocket; while it's possible for it to be a lucky special stick, it's more likely to be a wand. I have one like it myself."

"You can tell I'm a witch from a stick in my pocket?"

"Well, that; and you are wearing a deep maroon sock and a very bright plaid one."

"…"

"Or did you not notice that you put on non matching socks this morning and accidentally put a plain old regular stick in your pocket and forget about it while pruning?"

Andromeda, still oddly amused by the young man, as well as slightly confused by his rapid delivery; could only stare for a moment. Garret, with a very small smile stared back. 'Man, this could prove to be almost as entertaining as destroying Luscious, Corncob, Snidely and Fondlesmore. Gah! I still think that sounds like a bunch of ambulance chasers!' He thought to himself, 'A pureblood witch, from one of the more xenophobic families married to a muggleborn and mother to an extremely clumsy, and cute, polymorph… and here I was thinking that entertainment at home might become a problem.'

It was several moments before Andromeda caught up to what he'd just said and felt that she was being teased with in a friendly manner. It wasn't flirtatious. But, it was slightly uncomfortable to be dealing with someone as observant as the young man. 'I'll have to be careful how I deal with him. He may turn out to be more Slytherin than Slytherin was.' Andy thought to herself as she went around to the gate of his garden and let herself in.

The conversation gave her most of the information she wanted, his name, why he was in England and how long he expected to stay. Of course he told his story in an amusing manner, at least until he arrived at the point where his father had been killed. That was where Andy began to believe that she understood his apparent silliness. It was a mechanism he developed to allow himself to heal from his loss.

His current quest to find family he'd never met was another mechanism for that healing. She hoped that he found them soon. She could see the sadness in his eyes at the loss of the only family that he'd known. Unknown to her, the sense of sadness was the thought that he'd never see his real family again. She hoped that she'd be able to help in bringing him some real happiness. As long as it didn't damage that wicked sense of humor he had shown her already.

And if she was not mistaken, he was very likely responsible for the pranks on the higher government officials. Andy hoped there would be more of it in the future; after all, it couldn't happen to better people.

The final forger's charm had been placed; an interesting charm that had been developed in the States by less than stand up personnel in the State Department. All Law enforcement agents of the American magical community had been taught the charm and the counter so they would be able to recognize it. As far in advance as the Confederation of Magical States was beyond their European counterparts, they still suffered from that terminal case of lack of common sense.

For a prankster like Garret that was a good thing. The strategic value of such a charm meant that a target would be more likely to not be suspicious of an unexpected post. This being the case, our extra-Universal hero snatched up the quill with the most likely hand writing to send to the first target, set it at the proper angle and began dictating.

The smile growing on his face as he dictated the missive nearly broke into laughter several times. He allowed himself the break to laugh until he could control it before placing the delayed release hex. Once he was finished he quietly left his house and made sure his neighbor was otherwise occupied. Andy was a nice lady, with a sweet disposition, but Garret doubted she would understand his prank war. Then again, maybe she would; Sirius had been her favorite relative.

Reaching one of the smaller parks that surrounded the area, Garret shimmered for a moment and displaced to the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Using a seldom-used Auror trick once he arrived at the environs of the Burrow, he pulsed his magic in a gentle wave. The technique would return the location of everyone in the house that looked as if it were ready to topple at any moment; and would have if not for magic. The overly loud frowsy house frump of Molly was out, so that meant she had all the children not at Hogwarts with her.

Casting his invisibility spell and a few silencing charms upon himself, Garret crept to the household owlery. Anyone other than wizards would have called it an aviary, but with wizards, there yar. Approaching the small hutch like structure, he found what he was looking for, Errol, the family owl for the Weasleys. Still fairly spry and youthful; Errol looked to be able to hunt quite well still. And being a relatively intelligent owl he would most likely agree to the request.

"Errol," Garret said softly, "I have a post I'd like for you to take. But before I tie it to your leg, does Molly send a regular batch to the school?" At the slow nod of affirmation from the owl, Garret grinned.

"Then would it be too much to ask if you could take this to Dumbledore with the next one she sends? I'll disillusion it so only you can see it until you are well on the way." As the owl gave the avian version of a shrug, Garret grinned even more and cast the charm. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out a treat for the bird. He set the letter to the side where Errol could get it easily and gently patted the bird on the head and said, "Thanks Errol. I'll be sure to drop off a load of treats for you."

For Errol's part, he felt this human was a little odd, and should probably get his own owl. Especially if he was going to spend a lot on treats, but Errol wasn't going to complain.

Four days later Errol found that his wizards had received a years supply of owl treats due to a lottery. He remembered the wizard that asked the small favor and hoped to carry more mail for him in the future.

Two days later, Albus Percival Wulfric Bryan Dumbledore was at breakfast in the Great Hall, along with his staff of teachers and heads of house when Errol arrived bearing several letters. The bird had one in its beak that was dropped on the table before the ancient Headmaster, then continued on with the remaining post for the two Weasley children currently in school. Looking at the envelope Albus decided that a bit of pleasant news from one of his most staunch supporters wouldn't be amiss. Reading the missive, his brows climbed almost to touching his hairline.

_Dear Albus:_

_I just had to send this to you after having seen Narcissa and her daughter in Diagon Alley the other day while I was shopping for a few items. I had no idea that she was such a pretty little girl. Very feminine and with the cutest little tomboy manner, even dressing like a boy. And such an adorable pout!_

_I could tell that she is a girl that will be hard to win the heart of; but, I feel I must act now before someone of less scrupulous behavior notices her… like the Nott's or even the Flint's. That being said, I wonder if there would be a way for you to present a good argument for my son Ronald to be betrothed to such a cute girl?_

_I hope to hear from you soon about this possibility._

_Molly Weasley_

"Severus," turning his head to his Potions Master, Albus spoke. "I wasn't aware that Lucius had a daughter."

The snarky potioneer quirked an eyebrow at this statement rather than question, "He doesn't Headmaster. Why?"

"Read this my friend. Perhaps you will find it as odd as I." The old man replied.

As the greasy man read the letter, his eyebrow quirked ever higher, the snort that followed was almost expected by the Headmaster. "Headmaster, I've always felt the woman was dim. But this; this is beyond what I would expect of the red headed terror. Luckily, her children don't seem to have inherited this lack of gray matter."

"Perhaps it might be best if you were to confirm that Draco is in fact a boy; while I pen a response to Mrs. Weasley that we are looking into it." The sage Headmaster said, having come to a decision concerning the odd request of his follower.

What neither of the two wizards bothered to do was to inspect the letter for any charms, jinxes or hexes. Of course, if they were to do so now, after the fact of the primary target having already handled the letter, they would find nothing. The hex had settled into the final position and would slowly wear off over the following months.

Only after truly activating for the first time the following morning during breakfast.

+O+

The interview Severus had with the Malfoy family by Floo had been concluded the previous evening, leading him to an inescapable conclusion. Molly Weasley may be an idiot, but she had detected the exceptionally effeminate manner that Draco comported himself in. The knowledge that his godson was such a sissy gave Severus Snape a feeling that many would have described as 'icky'; not having the words to describe it left the greasy one at a loss.

This happened the previous evening; the conversation with his long time friend and fellow 'former' Death Eater lasted well into the night. With tired eyes, and sluggish mind from lack of sleep, Snape took his place to the right of the Headmaster only to be asked by that worthy. "Before you tell me how your talk went Severus, could you hand me… oh dear." What followed was possibly the longest and very likely worst smelling expulsion of flatulence Snape had ever endured. FffFFFFFUUUUUUUUUU rrrrrrrrrrrrrPPPPPPPPP PPargleMurkurk  
Urkurkurkurkpp WEEEEEEEsss squeeeeeeeeeeeatle purp purp purp

Once it had ended, Minerva McGonagall, waving her hand before her face, said. "Albus, that is the second time in three minutes! I think ye sh'd go and talk to Poppy; NOW!"

This of course would become a common complaint from the Deputy Headmistress over the following months.

A few days later Professor Snape received a new owl order catalog from an overseas supplier of ingredients. He thought nothing of it, as this was one of his regular providers of the more esoteric potion supplies. And again, a simple revealing charm would have prevented what was to come. Dinner two days after was the most uncomfortable affair he'd ever had to endure; after all, true arrogance does have a price.

Not only was he forced to deal with the seeming unending flatulence of his employer, he was suffering from some sort of bowel disorder himself. Severus found himself clutching his cheeks together, the muscles of his rectum clenching tightly to prevent the embarrassment that would surely follow.

He'd only managed to get to his feet and take a few steps to the door when the Headmaster released another prodigious fart. At the same time Severus lost the battle with his own body; and a rather wet feeling ran down his leg and spread across the floor from his position. It seemed to be gallons of liquid fecal matter. The laughter from the insufferable Gryphindors was the most demeaning aspect.

Take that back, the laughter from Snape's own house was the most demeaning.

A complete loss of dignity was not something he was willing to admit in front of the dunderheads called students. Regardless of the fact that dignity was something in very short supply at the moment.

It became a near daily occurrence, Snape knew someone was pranking him. Yet he couldn't prove it. If these same… difficulties had arisen when he'd been a student, he would have been able to blame Potter and Black. Unfortunately, those targets were no longer viable as they were long dead. No matter how much he tested his food and drink, or cast revealing charms on his personal items in his quarters, office or classroom; somehow, he would still be pranked.

A week of extremely loose stool. Nearly a two weeks of various articles of clothing receiving permanent sticking charms, the most annoying of that had been his shoes and underwear. The uncontrollable urge to wink in a seductive manner at all of the fifth year Hufflepuff boys…

He was growing weary of it.

The fact the Headmaster would wave his hand about as if these prank attacks were nothing, regardless of the never-ending stream of vile flatulence coming from the nether region of Dumbledore didn't help. Severus couldn't prove it, but he was certain that someone had managed to prank the Headmaster as well. This was something that Albus, Minerva and Poppy refuted at every turn. No one had ever successfully pranked the Headmaster since he had been a student at the end of the last century. That and Madame Pomfrey's diagnostics never detected anything.

These assurances did little to settle Snapes mind.

It was nearing the end of that same June when Garret received an owl from Grabpockets.

_Mr. G.S. Evans_

_#42 Knights Cross Road _

_Kensington_

_Mr. Evans, I would like to have you come to my office today if at all possible. We have the information you requested we look into. I regret to inform you that the news isn't pleasant. _

_That being said, it also isn't completely horrible, at least as far as humans are concerned. _

_Grabpockets_

_Evans Account Manager_

_Gringott's _

As he read the missive, Garret grinned with little humor. 'Finally, I can rescue Harry from the monssss… my _sister…' _he fought the urge to gargle with pure bleach after that word left his mouth. He had the feeling he would be fighting that feeling often for at least the next week.

He tried to make it easier to say by thinking of the sister he had left behind in his other life. But it was hard to reconcile the differences between the two women. Susan wouldn't ever treat any child the way that Spitunia had treated Harry.

'Note to self, **DON'T **call the evil half sister Spitunia to her face. Also don't remark on her resemblance to a member of the equine family. **DON'T **wonder why she married a walrus or bring up that Dudley is reminiscent of a manatee. At least not aloud!'

Garret was still mumbling to himself about that particular set of self-imposed rules when he arrived at the bank to speak with Grabpockets. The information was just as he knew it would be; he had two half-sisters, Lily and Petunia, with Lily having been killed at the fall of Voldemort. In fact she had married and had a child before her death. The news that Harry was his nephew was difficult for Garret to fake the surprise he needed to exhibit. But, he managed.

He knew all about everything that Grabpockets covered in the discussion. He even demurred a little when Grabpockets handed him a packet of documents pertaining to the transfer of Guardianship of a Minor. This paperwork would be filed in all the appropriate offices, muggle and wizarding, to make it ironclad and completely illegal for Fumbles to try to circumvent. The Goblin may or may not have been completely fooled by the acting Garret performed. But blood magic could prove relation without any difficulty, so Garret wasn't concerned about it.

Leaving the bank, Garret checked the time. It was a Thursday, and still fairly early in the day, not quite lunchtime. Stepping to a little used alleyway in muggle London; he cast a few notice-me-not charms on himself and his shrunken Land Rover. Looking around to be sure he wasn't noticed, he spun on his heel and popped out from London proper.

Finally the Goblins had sent him confirmation of what real Garret had paid the American investigators for. He now had a legitimate reason to go to #4 Privet Drive; confirmed by the Goblins with even more information made available to him. Not that he needed the additional information; Grabpockets was only going overboard on the service provided.

This didn't mean that Garret went straight to the Dursley home, far from it. He prepared things first. Of course, much of that preparation had been between the planning, setup and execution of some of his assaults on the Ministry, and the prank warheads sent to Hogwarts. Not the least of which were the form letters sent to every major manufacturer or retail and distribution company in the Greater U.K., these had permanent compulsion charms placed on them. Nothing serious; these charms established an abiding distrust of anyone named Vernon Dursley, and a strong desire to pass these memo's on to the lowest level management that could hire.

That is every company of that sort other than Grunnings. Garret had a special set of charms for that business. Vermin wasn't going to know what happened. Garret was sure that sometime within the next year his abnormally normal brother in law would be having a hard time of it at his place of employment, and finding it extremely difficult to find a job with a comparable income and benefits package to the one he currently held. Sadly, Vernon wouldn't discover that until he had already quit Grunnings in a huff. It would be something the morbidly obese mana-phobe would be more than willing to blame on his nephew and take 'appropriate' measures to punish the little 'freak'.

Of a certain, Garret would already have retrieved Harry from the care of Vermin and Spitunia. He did find himself thankful for his forethought in liberating so many of the Time Turners. All right, yes he did steal all of them; but only because he had no wish to have a critical thinking wizard discover what he was doing a work to counter him. It was also good to get them mostly out of the reach of a certain twinkle-eyed manipulator who would most certainly work against him if he discovered what Garret was doing.

And having someone counter-acting pranks is just anathema to a good laugh don't you know. It was also a really good idea to keep all of them so that a little girl wouldn't be given something like that when she's only thirteen and so trained to accept authority figures as always being right that she'd run the risk of damaging her health.

Garret is a prankster, but he wouldn't allow such a thing to happen just to have a little girl that over studies to begin with have the time available to take more classes than is practical.

Then there were the special 'gifts' he'd decided to give to his 'family' to repay their 'kindness' to Harry. It took a lot of research and multiple uses of a Turner, and a great deal of experimentation to get the 'gifts' right. Yes, it's probably completely unnecessary, immature and thoroughly cruel. Also completely incurable once the 'gifts' would be activated. The entertainment value alone would be worth the spy charms that he would be casting when he had the opportunity. Keeping in mind the needed privacy of the targets of a particular set of pranks. Grunts and splashes accompanied with long winded rumbles, or high pitched squeakers, are not things that are good for dinner viewing… it can put you off your feed.

The Ministry would be completely confused over another particular set of pranks; though anyone with even a passing familiarity with a certain cultural phenomenon would know exactly what it is, and wonder how it happened.

Of course, the experimentation was costly; involving potions, samplings of various types of hair, powerful charms and one actual curse. In fact the most difficult had been the curse part. But it would be well worth it. Garret did have a few problems obtaining test subjects, but found that lab rats worked exceptionally well for that as with any scientific testing. All he could say was he was thankful for the Turners he'd liberated from the Ministry in his first intrusion into that edifice of corruption.

He really hated having to kill the rats afterward. Although, he was very happy that when the rats died the charms and curse would break and they would be normal rats. So he didn't feel too guilty over it. There was the also the possibility of creating a short term version of transfiguration charms and curse… then again, the whole idea of Snape having a permanent water triggered transformation into a really bad Liza Minelli impersonator; complete with water magnet is too much to keep from thinking about.

'Too, too tragic story of drag queen what drown in spring twenty-year ago! Mr. Customer now really bad singer.' Indeed…

The thought caught Garret at just the right moment for him to trip while laughing in his back garden; this caused Andy to wonder what he was up to this time. After a short while of laughing very hard on his back in his garden, Garret sat up and realized he had enough time to send one final ranged prank warhead to Hogwarts. And was it gonna be memorable. He'd even hand deliver this one. 'Now why do I feel like Witch Hazel?'

It was the day before the end of year of exams were to begin, with the expectation they would be over by the last Wednesday of the month, leaving the final two days clear for rest and fun before the end of term ride back home from Hogwarts. It being Sunday meant that the majority of the students would be studying hard for the upcoming exams. The fifth and seventh years especially, as they were taking their O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s respectively.

The third years that would be starting fourth year the following term were expected to do well on the end of year exams also. Although there wasn't the same level of expectation felt for and by them. This was the atmosphere of the Great Hall that breakfast as all the students had slowly trickled in for the morning meal, many of the 'Claws studying at table, grudgingly taking the time to eat.

The Gryffindor's weren't nearly as uptight about the coming schedule, while the Snakes had the air of pompous unconcern that Purebloods seemed to exude from their pores. It wasn't as if they weren't able to ride their family's names into whatever position they wanted, or have it bought for them through bribery.

The 'Puffs all seemed a mix of the three other Houses, without the arrogance of Slytherin, or the lackadaisical approach of the Lions. Hufflepuff stood for hard work and loyalty, so there was some heavy study, without the anal-retentive activity of the Ravenclaws. As a result, the 'Puffs had for the most part left their books in their dorms or common room. The table wasn't the place for study, especially at the first meal of the day.

As it was Sunday, normally a day to relax and prepare for the following Monday, the air of the Great Hall was mildly subdued with little in the way of boisterous activity from any of the Houses. The Head table held the imposing and intimidating Potions Professor as well as the rest of the Heads of House. The popular Charms professor and the stern countenance of the Transfiguration professor rounded out by the much more approachable Herbology professor and the unbelievably, and to the mind of a recent arrival to the wizarding world, undeserving of it, popular Headmaster Dumbledore.

The breakfast was going normally for Hogwarts, with the occasional outburst of laughter from one table or the other. The Slytherins looking as if they were planning some sort of revenge for a perceived slight at the hands of the Gryffs, while Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students would be as uninvolved as possible. The post owls had just arrived and many had already left; their packages and letters delivered when the most peculiar thing happened.

The sound of a bicycle bell being rung drew the attention of everyone present. That wasn't the peculiar thing. What was peculiar was the fact that an extremely old man wearing some type of muggle costume appeared to be riding a bicycle. Appeared, because he was clearly holding handlebars for the muggle contraption, while seated on something clearly invisible to the naked eye. Even Dumbledore seemed intrigued by this. Even stranger was the fact that the old man and apparent bicycle were flying. The man in odd costume made several circuits of the Great Hall, coming lower to the tables and floor with each pass. Everyone watched in rapt silence, each confused as to what was happening.

Just at his touch down the old man said loudly, in an ancient sounding voice, "Telegram for Severely Sniping… Telegram for Severely Sniping." To the snorts of humor from several of the muggleborn students.

"The name is Severus Snape," the exceedingly dour Potions Master said in response. At the correction, the old man took off his spectacles and squinted at a list held to a small clipboard that had appeared in his hand.

"So yer right. Sorry about that, damned specs ain't as good as they were when I got 'em."

"And when would have been?" Dumbledore asked, coming out of his own stupor at the arrival of the odd man.

"Wuzzat sonny? Ya know it's rude to ask yer elders their age don't ye? Don't be thinkin' ye kin be makin' fun of yer elders neither. Ya ain't too old to take over my knee." The old man proclaimed, then mumbling just loud enough to be heard by those near, "though ye would prolly enjoy it ya old Nellie." This statement had Dumbledore confused, he had always felt he was the oldest person in most rooms, apart from a few like Grizelda Marchbanks, he generally was the most senior in years. The fellow in front of him did appear to be quite old. Possibly as old as Albus friend Nicolas.

The entire hall was treated to the oddest thing any had ever seen; at least the Pureblood students had never seen anything like it at any rate. The muggle-born were mostly looking as if they were watching a cartoon come to life. Some of them turning red in suppressed laughter so they could hear all that would happen. A few were waiting for the explosion from something innocuous.

"Lemme see here… Fudd, Fudd, Masked Marauder, Red Hot Ryder, Red Hot Ryder, Red Hot Ryder, Red Hot Ryder… popular fellah, Red Hot Ryder, Red Hot Ryder, Red Hot Ryder, Red Hot Ryder. Here it is; Severus Snape, A.K.A. Greasy Bastard. Ya gotta sign fer this boy." The old man looked severely at the seething Potions Master.

The apoplexy clear and evident in Snapes face was near to seizure levels with the blatant insult. Snatching the clipboard from the old man, he signed his name and was handed his 'Telegram', at which point the odd little old man remounted the invisible bicycle, pedaled between the tables and pulled back lifting into the air and back out the widow behind the recently departed owls. Snape, believing he would read the missive in private, set it down beside his plate and returned to eating. This was the signal for everyone else to return to what they had been doing themselves.

Barely had the breakfast conversations returned to a buzzing level of incoherent jabber with as few as one word out of five audible above the rest, when the envelope Snape had set aside began to smoke and writhe as it rose into the air before the Greasy man. The envelope twitched and contorted into the semblance of a face with a large mouth and it began to speak the same as any standard Howler would do.

The voice was unrecognized by any that heard it, seemingly altered to be so, but the words were clear and understandable. Unlike the general version of Howler sent by Molly Weasley, this one was quite pleasant in volume and tone.

"To Severus Tobias Snape, potions maker, self indulgent twerp and greasy bastard. Stop.

I know what your plans are. Stop. I know what you did. Stop. I know where you live. Stop.

I intend to tell you to stop. Stop. If you don't stop, I will stop you. Stop. I really mean it, stop. Stop.

Stopping you will be fun. Stop. Of course you being the arrogant twat you are; you won't believe I can stop you. Stop. So I will have the fun of stopping you. Stop.

Now a poem. Roses are red. Violets are blue. Pie can be gooey. And now so are you."

At this the mouth of the Howler Telegram opened wide and vomited what had to have been the largest strawberry custard pie ever seen by any alive. It was covered in whipped cream and cherries as well. The pie flew the few intervening feet and impacted the gawking and surprised face of the resident Greasy Git. Just a moment from that point the missive continued with a final parting shot.

"Signed the Masked Marauder.

This message will self destruct in… well. Now!"

Whereupon it shredded itself into confetti that burst into sparkles; this went unnoticed by all as the entire staff at the Head Table were caught in what appeared to be one of the most impressive displays of time delayed, mass transfiguration seen in over a hundred years. The last time had been Albus Dumbledore's extra credit project for his O.W.L.s.

To say that every person in the Great Hall was rendered speechless by the prank, for assuming it to be anything else would be a misstatement of Biblical proportions. Oddly enough, only two of the teachers at the Head Table were left out of the prank, Filius Flitwicke and Pomona Sprout. To include them would have just been too weird. Dumbledore's robes transfigured into a pleather BDS&M slave-boy costume, replete with zippered facemask. McGonagall, Hooch and Babbling were shocking to be seen in Dominatrix outfits while Snape… well, Severus would have a hard time being taken seriously for quite some time after. His robes were transfigured into a transvestite's corset, with an extremely painful looking pair of high-heeled shoes on his truly ugly feet.

Both the Headmaster and the Potions professor looked decidedly uncomfortable, as if something was somewhere that shouldn't have been where it was. Actually, only Snape really looked uncomfortable and the Headmaster had the look of trying to remember something, or reminiscing. 'Ah, Gellert; perhaps a conjugal visit this next weekend?'

Then the only one that looked uncomfortable was Snape as the Headmaster had built up enough pressure to remove the foreign obstruction. The cloud was visible and the rest of the teachers had the appearance of choking from it.

Nymphadora Tonks had been writing letters to her mum about all of the pranks and odd behavior from this year since February. She was completely unable to find out whom it was playing the pranks, but she promised herself that if she did, she would ask them to teach her. Making the greasy git look like a fool was a dream of everyone outside of Slytherin. And probably a fair few of that house as well.

After this latest and probably last prank of the year, Nymphadora decided the news to her mother would wait until they were on the way home from Platform 9 ¾.


	4. Chapter 4

**Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom**

**CHAPTER 4**

**Be Glad your name isn't Dursley**

There was a soft pop in the park as the air displaced with the sudden arrival of a mass that was five foot nine inches tall; around a hundred and eighty pounds. The figure that appeared was quite masculine in appearance with dark brown hair that held red highlights. Only two other people that lived currently possessed the bright green eyes framed by the strong and humor filled face. What was different about these eyes was the specter of mirth, as opposed to a hard glint of disdain or pain and loneliness. One could say that mischief was never far from the thoughts of this figure, as evidenced by the omnipresent glint of humor within his twinkling green eyes.

If someone who studied such things were to see the figure, dressed in a comfortably worn pair of neon green sneakers, faded blue jeans and a black tee shirt with the slogan "If you have to ask… The answer is most likely 'DUH.'" that student would have to say that it was the Norse god Loki or possibly Puck from Shakespearean tales, or even a human equivalent of the Japanese kitsune, or God forbid, Bugs Bunny made human. In short, a trickster in mortal form. The figure possessed the sheer frenetic silliness of someone that held a supreme grasp on reality; but held it with a decidedly loose grip. He was also wearing a fanny pack. Not the normal kind that you can get at any big box store or outdoor supplier, this one had been charmed to hold a considerably larger amount within than one you or I could purchase. That and it looked like a fanny. The zipper location **should** be pretty clear too.

Never mind that Wizarding Law would prohibit what he was planning as illegal and muggle baiting. 'It isn't like they even really care or that they'll be able to track it to me; even if they do eventually suspect me of it.' Garret thought with a wicked and mischievous grin. 'Pew! Look at this neighborhood! Talk about ticky-tacky! Good-gawd, unoriginal, cookie cutter, bland… I almost wanna barf! After seeing Privet Drive I think I am gonna havta Addams my place.' The apparent youth decided, then stalked down the road with thoughts of growling bear skin rugs named Brutus and lions named Kitty Kat.

Garret was in a good mood with the adventure to the Land of Blahs. He'd prepped this particular visit with a low level compulsion charm in the morning mail so that his sweet sister and Vermin would be out, dragging the worthless bullying lump Dudley along. Sadly this meant that Harry was most likely left with Mrs. Figg, the friendly neighborhood squib. Not to denigrate the poor woman, but with all the time she'd been watching Harry, unless she had a cruel streak, or Fondles kept obliviating her, she should have already figured out that the poor kid needed to be taken from the monsters.

Clenching his jaw at the lack of concern for the well being of 'the hero of the wizarding world'; Garret activated the runes on his belt. These runes used ambient magic to power a midrange notice me not charm, disillusionment charm and silencing charms. Security is a must when one is pranking after all. The set up is the most critical time you see. Besides, most of what he was going to do was Rune based anyway, thereby powered by ambient magic, just like his belt.

Active wand work would alert Fondlesmore or the Ministry. A low-level unlocking charm would be risky, but not as risky as the more powerful wand magic. An unlocker could be attributed to accidental magic, as well as the initial charging of the Runes by wand, which would be overlooked. Rune based charms and inconveniencing jinxes and hexes of this type wouldn't need more than enough magic to spark a wand. And since the wand tip would be in contact with the Runes to charge them, they may not even be detected.

As he approached the unobtrusive and completely n…n…n…normal (shivers) house at #4 he withdrew one of his throwaway wands. It wasn't as if the 'former' Death Eaters they'd been liberated from would miss them after all. It wasn't like they would need them in Azkaban anyway. Some of THOSE pranks had become almost instantly legendary.

The Carrows had been especially fun at that. The hardest part of the whole prank with them was the very short distance portkeys set between different doors of the same house. But with any fine work of art, it was the execution of the prank that made all the work worthwhile. Of course using a Michael Myers plastic golem had been a great gag too. The chase from room to room in random shifts was just as memorable as any Scooby-Doo chase. There were even costume changes between ports. Alecto finally demanded that her brothers and she turn themselves in to the Ministry as Death Eaters, if only to get away from the horrifying turn their lives had taken. Imagine everytime you say 'I don't know,' and having a disgusting slime dumped on you from nowhere. Amycus always seemed dumbfounded when he would say 'what' and be drenched in conjured ice cold water. Good times! Alecto made a very homely Velma too.

'Note to self, get a pensieve soon. Memories like those are too good not to share!'

Coming to the back gate of #4, Garret looked around to ensure that no one would notice the gate swinging open as he went through. He had no concern of being seen. The spells he was using would even confuse infrared and ultraviolet sensors; maybe even old Mad-Eye would miss him. Wonderful idea all the extra training that the American Defense Department Aurors do, with what those creative souls in the research and development crew come up with. 'Magic, gotta love it!' He thought happily as he closed the gate behind himself.

Stepping swiftly to the back door of the house, he cast the unlocking charm. And just as quickly he then entered the most unlived in feeling home that actually housed… well, people may be too kind of a word in describing the creatures that lived there, but it did also apply to Harry who _was_ a person. As he explored the antiseptic natural habitat of the Dursleyus Abusivus, Garret rummaged in his fanny pack 'o' goodies and pulled out a small box.

This box held within thumbtacks. Possibly the most advanced thumbtacks ever created, not to say that they hadn't been manufactured in the same manner as muggle thumbtacks. These had been specially charmed with the most complete set of enchantments for eavesdropping ever invented by Vindictus Viridian; Garret found them in an out of print volume of prank spells from the author, 'Do Unto Others and Watch the Results'. They were even able to send real time images to a special set of Rune encoded crystals that would record everything, including sound. The crystals at the other end of this system were connected to a magic mirror for viewing the captured data. A large magic mirror. 'Gotta stock up on the popcorn!'

Purely for entertainment purposes for those times when the weather was too nasty to go outside or he was too tired to think of any deviltry to pull on the Wizarding world. Of course it wouldn't hurt to have that information on hand if he decided that the world would be better served with the Dursley's put away in Azkaban. Then again, that would remove his favorite future program. Calmly, Garret made his way around the interior of #4 putting a single tack into each corner of every room; he wanted to get proper coverage. He did of course _not_ put any in the bath… and completely forgot to place any in the Master Bedroom. This was entirely on purpose; even the thought that the reverse of Jack Sprat and his wife would still be having conjugal relations made Garret queasy.

It took all his self-control to not begin slamming his forehead into a convenient wall to jar the visions of his half-sister and the walrus performing the horizontal tango. With supreme effort he even managed to keep the bile under control until he made it to the toilet to spew. 'That's gonna give me nightmares for months!' Garret thought as he fought down the shivers from the unintentional vision of morbidly obese and horrendously thin performing pelvic pounding… 'EEEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWW I gotta get a good brain washing after that! Gonna havta stock up on mental floss… _**nasty**_!'

After regaining control of himself, Garret cast a wandless air cleaning charm and went back to the Master Bedroom. Trying to keep his mind from the _**bad thoughts**_, he then pulled out his magic Rune marker loaded with *invisible ink and went about setting up a few delayed jinxes for his half-sister and brother in law. Nothing that would be long term, well nothing that would last longer than twenty-four hours anyway. There were a few jinxes for Vermin's work ties; none that were life endangering, except maybe the Murphy jinx.

There was no telling what could happen with that one. But it was sure to be entertaining, even if the tale would be second hand. The flatulence hex was sure to be a winner, especially combined with the alum charm. The only one that would last for at least a month after activated, that would happen the moment Vermin touched the cloth of the tie. That is unless Spitunia has a habit of laying his clothes out for him, then it would be priceless. 'I can just imagine the looks she'll get at the harpy get togethers!' He thought with a grin, 'I wonder if they'll take the time to practice God Save the Queen in 'd' whistled farts or Ravels Bolero… Toccata in Fugue?'

Continuing on, Garret placed a few more surprise traps for the supposed adults of the household. He was particularly proud of the resizing charm he placed on a pair of Vernon's boxers. It should prove funny after picturing of the look on his face when it activates. The pleasures of magic, it allows for delayed activation, or reaction.

Making his way around the house, Garret left little jinxed or hexed items here and there. Arriving at Dudley's room, he thought for a few moments on what would be appropriate for his helpful, industrious and kind nephew. It would have to be something that would terrify the beach ball, something long lasting and certain to have lingering effects. With a manic grin Garret got to work on the latest idea. It may be a few days before it activated, but it would be worth it. 'I can hear the scream now… the little pig taking a dump and shitting hamsters.'

He did hope that most of these pranks wouldn't activate until after he'd retrieved Harry.

'Note to self, make sure to be here the day they get back from Barge's.' As that was two days away, Garret wasn't overly worried, just concerned. There was a high likelihood of Harry being held responsible for the 'freakishness' that was coming the way of the Dursley's. He wouldn't put it past them to keep the kid from going to school as part of his punishment over it. The poor kid might not be able to go to school because of it due to injury. That dark thought made Garret shake his head at the viciousness of these people toward family members that were incapable of defending themselves.

It wasn't very long before Garret found himself in front of little Harry's cupboard. Here he had the most special of his presents to place. These wouldn't do anything in the way of a prank; or even inconvenience the Dursley's. These would help himself and Harry in the very near future. What these were intended to do was to leach any and all tracking charms from the boy and any articles of clothing they may be placed on, such as his glasses and poorly held together trainers. The signal charm Runes he put on the small and overused mattress for when Harry slept the first time they were back was the last set he placed. He was under no illusions as to the level of intrusion that Dumbledore would reach to keep his little weapon under his own control.

Too bad for him that Garret would have all the legal rights of guardianship over the kid. The Wizengamot wouldn't stand for the old Merlin wannabe arguing against him receiving custody. Then again, it would be a little while before the old fart discovered Harry missing.

With Harry's 'room' charmed properly and the rest of the house set up with various inconveniencing jinxes and hexes, Garret exited the building; only stopping long enough to put an accelerated entropy hex on Vernon's Lay-z-boy recliner. With any luck, everything that could fall apart on that chair would do so at the same moment when Vernon sat in it at the end of the week.

Hopefully a couple of days after Garret took Harry away.

The small car that held the women of the Tonks household had been weaving through the early evening traffic of London. The elder was laughing at the descriptions told of the pranks her daughter had witnessed, some of the stories of the smaller less memorable pranks were just as funny in her estimation.

"Then, out of the blue, for absolutely no reason at all, Snapes shoes started walking while he was wearing them. They took him to the wall in the potions lab and straight up; didn't stop until he was upside down in the middle of the ceiling." The younger one said. Her smile at the memory vengeful for the horrible things he'd said about her to her face and behind her back. Nymphadora felt that someone might have been getting revenge for her, and that made her feel warm at the idea. "They were only able to get him down by untying his shoes."

Andy looked to her daughter briefly and just cackled while they were stopped at an intersection. Luckily traffic had thinned out enough that they were able to stay through the light for the needed time so she could catch her breath. Taking the corner finally and pulling to the side, Andy parked the car and imagined the look on the face of her younger House member and laughed even harder. She could just see how he would have tried to fight against the shoes taking him to the ceiling and stopping, his greasy hair hanging in his face; blood going to his face in his anger. She imagined it would have had to be a very powerful sticking charm to hold a man of near thirteen stone.

It was a few minutes before Andy calmed down enough that her giggles had become short snickers and were controllable. "Dear, please wait until your father has taken a sip of anything other than brandy or scotch if you tell any of these stories to him. And be sure I'm there when you do."

"Sure thing mum. Just wait until I tell about what happened before the week of finals." The girl agreed; the idea of her dad snorting milk through his nose at breakfast giving her a wicked smile. "So what's this about a new neighbor?" The recent fourteen-year-old asked.

Garret had gotten done with the Dursley home around noon and had been home since two. He'd thought about following up on the idea of Addamsing his house, but figured it was too light out to be doing so. The sound effects charm on the doorbell would take hours and would be best to cast at midnight, otherwise it might fail after only a week; unless he decided to use dragon blood for it, then he'd have to complete the charms at midnight. That version he could set up the Runes earlier and work on it when he had more time. He wanted it to be permanent, so he'd decided to wait until later for it. As a result he was in the Prank Lab working up a new warhead to send to a target; the difficulties he was having was deciding on the target and what act of proactive madness to perpetrate.

He'd finally settled on the latest target, being Ronald Weasley, and was currently thinking about what could possibly be appropriate as a prank for the deluded and decidedly dim boy. He'd only come up with a possible; that being a compulsion to do unspeakable things to his brother's pet rat Scabbers… now he was in a quandary as to what those horrors should consist of.

Armageddon came to mind.

He had only just set up a return missive of confusion from the apparently girl Draco Malfoy. When he was struck by the idea that it was possible that the two boys wouldn't be able to read and write yet. 'Wrecks that idea! They're both Pureblood bigots and probably quite slow to learn. Ronald is for certain. The little Ginger Potion Pusher is probably ahead in reading and comprehension already. Of course that little fan-girl will have to be dealt with too. What to do?'

Then the shiver ran down his spine. The shiver was something he'd encountered before, usually after an evening of far too much imported ale… or unpopular Oriental dishes. Or when he was a child and his original mother had said that someone had walked over his grave.

Only this was worse in that it wasn't at all unpleasant. It was spooky, uncomfortable and terrifying, but not unpleasant. 'Someone has gotta be thinking bad things about me. Very bad things, as if my future has been decided and I have no choice but to go along. That or someone just pissed in my coffin.'

+O+

Somewhere in Northern Scotland, where a Pine tree farm existed, a small terrier hiked his leg over a bare seedling; the only tree short enough for the miniature dog to actually feel superior to. Amazingly, this has nothing to do with the eventual coffin of Garret. As a hawk swooped down and carried the rude little monster away, but not before he'd been able to tinkle on the eventual source of Garret's future doghouse that he would find himself in often over the following years.

+O+

For some reason, Garret knew… he just knew that soon his life was going to become beyond confusing to himself, that no matter how hard he fought it, he'd lose. The feeling went away with a small belch. 'Last time I have Grape Nehi with fish and chips for lunch… BLEGH! Now, why in the Hell does it taste like cake?'

Smacking his lips at the odd flavored belch, Garret promptly forgot the odd feeling and tried to get back to work.

Some would think Garret could be classified as ADD, nothing could be further from the truth. He merely has a close, very close, affinity with felines, any odd ball of fluff or bright object will draw his attention, seeming to beg him to swat at it as any playful cat would. If he were susceptible, catnip would be his recreational consumable for a buzz.

Of course, shiny objects, string, balls of yarn and dust bunnies tend to be inspirational for him while in the throws of creative pranking. So it was that the television playing in the background caught his attention. The advertisement was for a recent popular dance show, Riverdance. 'Now, should I plan on having Snidely or Fondles be the Flatley character? Or Fudgepacker and Luscious?'

Giving it up as a botched job, Garret decided to wait for a day or two before really coming up with a good Sorting Feast prank to mark the beginning of hell term for Snidely. 'Gotta remember to be sure to leave a calling card for them, I like the idea of the Masked Marauder. Oughtta give the grease stain nightmares trying to figure out who it is!' he continued to think to himself.

Reaching over the desk, Garret turned off the lamp after putting his tools away.

It just wasn't the time for more pranks he supposed. The two primary targets at Hogwarts were going to be mostly alone; Fudge had locked himself in his office after the last prank. Who would have thought his worst nightmares would be tadpoles in a goldfish bowl singing the praises of daddy? And Lucy… he was still viable as a target, being so visible. But it's no fun when the public won't see all the other targets when the masterpiece pranks go off. 'Oh well, I suppose I can wait a week or two. I'll let the cowards hide out and get comfortable before I smack 'em around some more.' Garret sighed to himself in disappointment. After all, a war isn't won with the number of battles fought; it's the quality of the devastation and humiliation left behind that counts most. Nodding his head at his wisdom, Garret climbed the stairs to the house proper.

It would be an excuse to take the kid around town and get him some stuff and show him off. Clothes that fit, glasses that are his prescription, some new toys of his own… mebbe find out if he's bright enough to go to school with Hermione. 'Wonder how long it will take before he has Andy wrapped around his little finger? For that matter how long will it take for him to get Nymphadora to become the VERY protective big sister-type to him? Might oughtta start thinkin' about taking Ted on some Putt-Putt courses with the kid too… merely for male bonding purposes of course.'

Garret refused to admit that it was his favorite thing to do on a lazy Sunday. Never mind that he had the official golfers uniform of loudly multicolored clothing to go Putt-Putt in.

The soon to be six-year old Harry had been pretty happy, for the most part. Mrs. Figg made sure he had plenty to eat, and even mended a couple of tears in the knees of his trousers. He'd finally grown to the point where they weren't so big on him and hoped that Aunt Petunia would let him keep wearing them for awhile before making him take the latest cast-offs from Dudley. He hated tripping over his pant legs because he couldn't get them to stay up well enough without the irritating bunching of fabric around his waist.

Really, the only real problems he had staying at Mrs. Figg's house was the number of cats she had and the cabbage smell that seemed to pervade the woman's house. Apart from that, he always looked forward to the times he could stay there as opposed to his relative's house. At least there he got to sleep in a bed that had a proper set of covers, and eat a reasonable amount of food. Unfortunately, the Dursley's would be returning that afternoon, and he would have to be there before they returned home so he could carry their luggage inside and have the flower beds weeded, the latter having to be done before they returned.

Harry couldn't understand why he wasn't allowed to have friends, or ask questions… or sometimes get a hug when he was scared or lonely. He would keep it to himself as much as he could, never wanting Uncle Vernon to know about it. It would just lead to more time locked in his cupboard and even less food. Harry was looking forward to the fall though.

Unlike Dudley, who had gotten to go to kindergarten and make friends the past two years, Harry had had to remain at the house and do the chores he'd been given to do to make up for what he cost to care for. Without any frame of reference as to the way things were supposed to be, Harry believed it was normal. If a kid isn't the child of the adults in the house, they weren't allowed to have friends, or toys or comforting hugs.

Harry didn't really mind his cupboard, at least there he could let his imagination go free and picture family that wanted him around. Or friends that wanted to play games. As long as he kept his imagination to himself, he wouldn't get punished more than normal. Harry couldn't remember his parents, but from what his Aunt Petunia said about them, it might be for the best. They were supposed to have been in a car crash when they were taking him to the orphanage to get rid of him when his drunken father lost control of the car. There were times when Harry really didn't want to believe that, but given his situation, he had little choice but to accept the facts as they were presented.

This didn't stop him dreaming of a 'someday' when he could get away from the people that were bigger than he was and mean for no reason.

His head was still sore from the previous weekend when he'd lost control of himself and called Aunt Petunia 'Mum' by accident. He'd had a very bad nightmare the night before and he'd been especially hungry from several days in a row of no meals when it had happened. All he was doing was thanking her for the egg and slice of bacon he'd been given for breakfast. When it happened she bounced the fry pan off his head. It had hurt a lot and he woke in his cupboard with a pounding head and still no food.

At this point he still didn't know his name, to his mind he was Boy or Freak. He wasn't exactly sure which, so he made sure to answer to either.

He had been back at #4 most of the day Sunday and his weeding was nearly complete. He only had a little touch up left and then he would have to wait in the back garden until his relatives returned home. Sometimes a neighbor would pass by and say just loud enough for him to hear, 'Serves the little hoodlum right! Vernon and Petunia are right to work the little criminal as hard as they can. Maybe he'll grow into a productive member of society.'

Harry didn't know what a 'hoodlum' or 'criminal' was, but he did know they meant him and for some reason it hurt when they said it.

Picking up the bits of weeds and bagging them, Harry moved to the back garden to get a drink from the hydrant and wait. It wouldn't be too long and they would be back and he wanted to have a little rest before hand. After getting his drink, he sat in the shade of the only tree in the garden; the same one Aunt Marge had allowed Ripper to chase him up just last summer. He still had the scars from the dog bites. And the lashing scars for bleeding on the roses.

Here he sat and thought about what the fall would bring; he would get to go to school! Harry was looking forward to it. From what he understood, school was where you could make friends and learn all sorts of interesting things. He really hoped he would do well, maybe then his Aunt and Uncle would have some approval of him. But that was in the future, and the Dursley's had just turned into the drive.

Wearily, Harry rose from his resting spot and went to take the luggage inside for his relatives, while his Aunt inspected the flowerbeds that he'd been given as his chores. After he had gotten the bags inside, he was tossed into his cupboard for the effrontery of having a clod of dirt left on the grass outside the flowerbeds. No dinner again, and probably no breakfast either. If he were lucky, he might get some boiled lettuce and a slice of dry bread at lunch tomorrow. Sighing, Harry tried not to cry and prepared for an early bedtime.

The Dursley's had returned the previous evening and the signal charms Garret had placed in the cupboard under the stairs along with the leech charms had gone off. Now, Garret was in his back garden again pacing. It was time to retrieve the kid from the mons… half-sister. 'I hope the kid can deal with it. What if he doesn't like me? I was never that great a role model for my 'real' nieces and nephew. Odd kids those, acted like I was something great, but I knew better. I may never have been a drunken idiot with them around, but I was opinionated about certain people in their lives. At least with Harry I can honestly tell him his parents were good people and not what Spitunia claimed.

Am I ready to be a parental figure? No, I don't think so. Best to be the favorite weird uncle.'

That determined; Garret went to the garage to take the trip to Privet drive and finally rescue Harry. On the way, Garret outlined in his mind what he was going to do with the kid after he picked him up. The first stop would have to be a clothing store. And then a toy store; the following week would be a pediatrician, optometrist, and another toy store. Of course he would be taking Harry to the magical version of a pediatrician and possibly optometrist, if there were such a thing. He'd check into that when they went to St. Mungo's. Then he was struck with an even more brilliant plan regarding the check-up for Harry. 'I'll just send a squirrel to Pomfrey and ask her to do it. Of course, I'll prolly havta stroke her ego a little. That never hurts!'

Then book shops, both magic and muggle. It would be a good idea to counter all the damage done by the Dursley's and that deluded self important, conceited, arrogant… you get the idea. Dumbledore has a lot to answer for, and there will be years of pranks to play.

The punishment has yet to begin really.

Garret was very pleased with the packet of legal documents that Grabpockets had provided for his adventure in the rescue of Harry. He would periodically reach to make sure it was still in the interior pocket of his duster. He'd been of two minds about wearing the decidedly intimidating coat, it being jet black and made of very thin Hebridean Black Dragon hide; lined in Acromantula silk. Yes it was costly; yes it was a bit over the top for intimidation factor; but Boy, could they be made with pockets! If it's one thing Garret liked a lot of it was pockets. There were so many uses for large pockets its mind boggling. Especially if the pockets had expansion charms on them.

Of course, the tee shirt would probably squirk Petunia as well. What can you say about a slogan like, 'Does your face hurt? Because it's killin' me.'

That should be enough to tweak Vernon to purple, assuming he's there at the time.

Getting back to the packet of parchment, Garret had taken the time since his arrival to do a little research and put together an especially charmed one. In essence this particular piece of legal documentation would completely transfer all rights, privileges, protections and special wards to the next blood kin of Harry Potter.

Dumbledore might not discover the loss of his tool for quite awhile due to that particular piece of parchment. It had taken nearly a full day to set the Runes and cast the spells and enchantments necessary to allow transfer of the wards at the Dursley residence to the Goofball Garage.

The drive was unremarkable from Kensington, through Leicester and on to Surrey. Yes, it was a bit out of the way; and round about, but it was a nice drive. Garret did NOT take the wrong direction on the expressway. He had been a professional driver in his previous world after all. In fact, if asked, he would tell you point blank that he'd done it on purpose and he knew exactly where he was the whole time.

Never mind that he did wind up stopping and asking directions… twice. It was just too nice a day not to take the time enjoying a drive in his new Land Rover. He really did it all on purpose… truly. It is completely unreasonable of you to assume he'd gotten lost, completely!

So it was nearing lunch when he finally arrived in Little Whinging. Turning onto Magnolia Crescent and following the road to the first turn that would be Privet Drive, Garret pulled up to the depressingly normal home marked as #4, and fought the urge to lose his breakfast. The last time he'd been here he had lost a meal, but that was because of horrific thoughts that had entered his mind at the time. This time it was a bit easier to control the gorge rising in his throat. At least it had been easier until those _**bad thoughts**_ surfaced and he had to grab them in a strangle hold and beat the crap out of them. After stuffing the bad thoughts into a little used corner of his mind, he looked around the depressingly normal street again.

It didn't help with the number of nearly identical homes that lined the street. Most of the differences being minor in that they were mirror images, with alternating elevations of the floor plans for the front entry. Each of them had second stories with the same number of bedrooms, the same number of baths within. And the same sort of narrow minded lackluster gossips and unimaginative office types and homemakers. As sterile and normal as all the people in this neighborhood were, none were as obtuse and demanding of normalcy as the Dursley's. It was enough to cause even the lower level creative types to shiver in revulsion.

Shuddering from the absurdly average housing that surrounded him, Garret opened the driver's door and, getting out, stood in the street for a moment looking around. Mrs. #6 looked out her window to see the figure wearing the black leather looking coat that reached to nearly mid-calf with a bright green tee shirt and pink sneakers, worn blue jeans and over large sunglasses. She promptly prepared to make a few calls around the neighborhood about Petunia's bizarre visitor, keeping an eye out the window the whole time. There might be some juicy gossip to insert at the next Housewife Social; Local 267.

Overcoming his need to throw up at the view of the unimaginative domiciles, Garret strolled up the walk to the front door of his half-sister and knocked. He could hear harsh whispers and a slap, followed by the sound of a small latch closing with a rattle of something like a padlock being shut. His assumption that they might have had one or two of the trap pranks go off soon after returning home was proven accurate after all. Harry was paying for it. 'Then again the poor kid might have sneezed at the wrong time too.'

It was alright though, Harry would be leaving here in the next hour. And then… and then… well, it will become open season on Dursley's. Waiting patiently Garret looked to his toes until he heard the sound of the knob on the door turning. Looking up, he saw the horse faced example of bitter contempt for all things fun. "Yes. May I help you?" the woman at the door asked; barely concealing a sneer at the manner of dress of the man before her, he may not be a freak to her mind, but he certainly wasn't dressed 'normally'.

Smiling wide, Garret asked, "Is this the Feinman residence?"

"No. It is the Dursley residence." Came the reply through gritted teeth.

"AH, good, I'm at the right place then. Might I step inside dear sister?" Garret asked while stepping around the rail thin form of Petunia and into the entry hall of #4 Privet Drive.

"Who are you?" Petunia all but screeched.

"I'm your half brother, Garret. We share the same mother: how? I have no idea. Suffice to say it was a rather sordid situation that I have no desire to go into with you. And now I'm here to meet my family. Since dad died, you and Lily are all I have left." He explained pleasantly.

"NO! Absolutely impossible, I do not have a brother, half or otherwise. You are lying!" Petunia fairly hissed. Actually it came out more of the loud whistle that you would obtain from an over stressed boiler that had sprung a leak. Or the relief valve on a pressure cooker. She had the peculiar sensation that he was telling the truth, and that she might even remember a time back when she was a child, of a man with the same sort of features that had visited her mother when her father was away for all that time on business.

"You do know that I could have a genetic comparison done to prove what I say Tooney. But that is entirely beside the point. Regardless of what I tell you, you'll refuse to accept the facts as established. Now, I have a question for you… why isn't my nephew in school today? And I don't mean Dudley." Garret explained while carefully making sure to sit on the love seat as opposed to the very comfy looking Lay-Z-Boy.

"The little freak did something and he's being punished." Her eyes narrowed at the presumptuous nature of the man in her sitting room.

"Well, doesn't that save me loads of time! I don't have to go down to the school and pull him out. Why don't you go retrieve him while I get the paperwork ready for you to sign." Reaching for the pocket with the documents.

"What paperwork?" Petunia asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Why, the paperwork that places Harry in my custody and you will never have to see him again." Garret smiled widely at the surprised look of genuine pleasure that lit Petunia's face.

'Get rid of the BOY?' Petunia thought loudly in her mind. 'Vernon will be pleased, but what about the old freak? It doesn't matter, he should know Vernon and I never wanted the little freak with us anyway. And if this freak is telling the truth, the old bastard won't have a choice! But, the old freak was supposed to be the most powerful of their kind.'

"When my parents died that was all the family I had. So I honestly don't know what you are talking about." Petunia explained.

"Alright, alright… you never have to claim either of us as family again Tooney. Just bring him out and sign these papers; we'll be out of your hair before you know it."

Thinking to save herself the humiliation of showing where the Boy was kept, Petunia suggested, through clenched teeth, "it may take a bit of time to get him ready to leave. Why don't you return in a few hours to pick him up?"

"Now, Tooney. You should realize that Lily would never have kept Dudley in the cupboard under the stairs, fed him scraps if at all, cracked a frying pan on his head. Or, for that matter, done everything she could to have the rest of the neighborhood believe that he was a criminal in the making, forcing him to perform chores that would be difficult for an adult. Why don't you just retrieve Harry from the cupboard now; because if I have to leave and come back, I will have to have the police here with me, and you know what will happen then?

They will place you under arrest, Vernon will go to prison with you, and Dudley will be sent to live with Barge. Then the court will assign Harry to my care without your consent, because at that point, your opinion will be worth as much as the average garden slug. Do you want to know what would happen to the two of you in prison Tooney?

Being found guilty, with very little effort, the two of you will be facing extreme prejudice in the population of hardened criminals. You, very likely, will be beaten to death during a riot, and poor Vernon will be raped repeatedly by some fellow that likes to be called Bubba. Prison inmates really don't like child abusers very much Tooney.

Bring my nephew out now, and none of those terrible things will happen, and best of all; the rest of Little Whinging will never know any of the horrible things you are guilty of. To quote a certain nosy and controlling old bastard, it IS for the Greater Good. In this case, the Greater Good of Harry James Potter."

Throughout the entire dissertation, Petunia Dursley saw her carefully constructed world of lies and deceit dismantled. Her plans to beat the freakishness out of the boy had gone out the window when this person had arrived with his proposal; then the threats that were most certainly not threats, but promises of what would happen, not of what could. She found her knees nearly banging together with the fear of not only what the neighbors would say about her; but also the distinct possibility of dying a violent death at the hand of criminals in prison.

She was terrified of the implications that he described. Petunia also felt it very likely to happen in the manner described. What was worse, that it would all come out and her neighbors would know!

Lets assume that the land speed record was NOT accomplished on the salt flats outside Salt Lake City, Utah; USA.

Her face more pale than the proverbial person who'd seen a ghost, Petunia returned very shortly with a small figure drowning in clothes easily three times his size. The boy had bright green expressive eyes; black tousled hair that would put up a serious fight with any brush brought to bear. He was also much too small for his age; he had the red handprint of a recent slap on his cheek. This was enough to give Garret another reason to return with further punishment pranks for his sister and the bloated oaf. Jusenkyo Brand Chocolates and bath supplies were sure to be a big hit, though already planned they may make a much earlier appearance.

Garret hid his anger with a bright grin that he knew Harry couldn't really see. He was surprised as well due to the fact he'd misremembered the chronology regarding the kids' glasses and when he got them. Harry wasn't supposed to receive them until his first semester at primary school when his teacher would notice him squinting at a book. That wasn't going to happen in this reality.

This time Harry had Garret there as a supportive and caring guardian, well he would very soon. Just as soon as Tooney signed the parchment. 'Poor Tooney, she's gonna be upset that it has to be signed in blood to make it binding. Of course that is only for the Blood Ward transfer.' He thought happily as he prepared the documents and the Blood Quill for his sister to use, then he would sign and the magic would take over and make everything binding by the immutable force of the universe. This one at least.

"Here you go Tooney. Sorry, but you have to use the quill, or else it won't be binding. By the way, before you sign, you will notice a slight discomfort while you use it. It won't last long, and if the pain is still there when you're done, I'll heal you before the kid and I cut out." Garret explained to the skinny mana-phobe.

What he didn't explain about the parchment that she was signing was that there were a few additional charms that were embedded in them. One of which would prevent her from speaking about the transfer with anyone other than himself. As far as Vernon was concerned she could tell him that another relative had taken the kid and that is all Vernon would know.

They'd still have a party over it. 'Worthless, self centered and hate filled things!' Garret thought.

He had been thrown into his cupboard when someone knocked at the front door. This was normal; he wasn't supposed to be seen, and if he made any noise he would be punished worse. This didn't prevent him from listening to what happened in the sitting room he had so recently been cleaning under the hawk like eyes of Aunt Petunia. It seemed to be some kind of one-sided conversation with the voice of a humor filled man who was doing most of the talking.

Aunt Petunia was definitely angry, but he knew she wouldn't do anything to the man in the sitting room. She might not do anything to him either, but he would get it when Uncle Vernon got home. Then his attention was gripped when the man talked about his cupboard, and a woman named Lily. Then he heard another name, Harry James Potter, 'is that me?' he asked himself as the cupboard door was opened again and he was snatched out of the dark space under the stairs.

He was dragged to the sitting room to see a man on the love seat dressed in the most unusual way he'd ever seen, calmly laying out thick yellow papers with lots of words written on them. The man had a black feather in his hand when he looked up and said, "Here you go Tooney. Sorry, but you have to use the quill, or else it won't be binding. By the way, before you sign, you will notice a slight discomfort while you use it. It won't last long, and if the pain is still there when you're done, I'll heal you before the kid and I cut out." Then he grinned, although there was a little sadness in his eyes.

"Hey Harry! While your Aunt Tooney is signing these pages, why don't you go back to your cupboard and get your soldiers? I know they aren't much, but they are what you have for now. But, that is gonna change pretty soon. Grab any clothes you want to take too, not that you'll be keeping those nasty rags very long. It is nice to be polite and keep the horrible things your Aunt gave you, so she can't really complain about her kindness being disregarded.

Of course, if you don't wanna keep 'em, that's up to you. We're only gonna stop and get you some decent clothes on the way home."

The boy could hardly believe his ears. He was going to get to leave to a new place!

"Excuse me sir… but, who are you?" the boy asked fearfully. Things were moving very fast for him and he didn't understand.

"Me? I'm not all that important Harry; so you don't have to call me 'sir', you are my uncle and I am your nephew… No! That isn't right, gotta remember how the whole family thing works. Let's reverse that, I'm your uncle and you're my nephew; that sounds right! I promise I'll be a whole lot different than Verm… errr…Vernon." The man said, with a happy twinkle to his eyes, then the man turned his attention back to Aunt Petunia.

"So, Tooney… all done with the signing over guardianship thing there?"

Harry directed his own attention to the woman, only to see her rubbing her slightly bloody left hand while the man pulled out a stick and waved it in her direction. Aunt Petunia looked to her hand with shock, and only then seemed to catch the near insult to her husband. The man then picked up the feather and started signing his own name on the papers. Harry had the strangest feeling for the whole time, something odd was happening and it caused a pressure to build up in his chest and kept building. It didn't hurt, but it was a little scary. The only time he'd ever felt something like it had been after Dudley had broken his fingers that one time.

The feeling had happened over night and the next morning his fingers were healed.

Just as the man finished signing his name to the final piece of thick paper, there was a sound of a thousand windows that had been broken going back together, with a tingling that went from the tip of Harry's toes to the ends of his hair.

Garret thought he hid it well. The sudden rush of wards attaching to him and charging fully for the first time wasn't painful, but unexpected. The suddenness of the charge was merely because there was an adult wizard that actually cared about what happened to Harry; unlike a squib that despised the fact that he continued to breathe. Of course, the Blood Wards had an adult core to pull from as well as the core of a child, even if that child had more raw power than any three adult average wizards. Fortunately, Garret wasn't exactly average; not that he had as much power as Harry. As such, he didn't pass out from the sudden drain to his core. 'Whoa! That's almost like slamming twelve Guinness at once! Man, I'm dizzy. Better not let on; it wouldn't do to have old Spitunia know how weak I am now.'

He knew he'd have to have a good solid sleep later. In fact he might even use a Turner to get extra rest. That would probably be the best idea. For now he had to get Harry away from #4, the more free time away from there and the longer it would take the bearded busy body to find out. Not for the last time would Garret be glad of the recording crystals back at the Goofball Garage. He just knew he'd pay money to see the look on the old Twinklers face once Harry was discovered missing.

By then it would be far too late for the old fossil to do anything about it. To quote an old television series, 'I love it when a plan comes together!' Garret thought to himself as he looked to the amazed little boy in front of him in the Dursley sitting room.

"Well, kiddo, did you have anything you wanted to take along with you?" he asked the stunned boy. He grunted softly when the answer was only a slow and bare shake of the head in negation.

'Now, what movie should I plug in for the kid this evening? Gotta be something completely silly and age appropriate. Dammit, can't use Caveman… all that zug-zug, he's liable to catch on. Oh well, cartoon collection from WB oughtta be good enough, nothing more entertaining than the wabbit and the duck. Unless it's Wile E. and Beep. First, gotta get him some decent clothes, and then send a squirrel off to Hogwarts for Poppy to come and perform a complete check-up on him. I wonder if she can prescribe lenses for him?'

Reaching out to Harry and taking the boys smaller hand in his, Garret said, "come on kiddo. Let's go, before we come down with a terminal case of dull." And led the boy out the front door of #4 Privet Dr. never to return.

A/N *Unlike the muggle counterpart, wizarding invisible ink has a slow loss of visibility over an hours time, allowing for such things as delayed pranks to be set up with temporary Runes. The recipe for this ink can be found on page 227 of Vindictus Viridians work, 'Vengeance on a Budget'. The stuff even washes out easily with just soap.

The healing charm that Garret used was very quick and under powered, it was only healing a scratch after all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom**

**Chapter 5 **

** Say it in one Breath, I dare you**

The little boy with his hand held by the man that led him from his aunt's house looked around the yard he would never have to care for again and it seemed the air was fresher and the sun a bit brighter. He looked up at the face of the man and asked, "where are we going sir?"

Garret looked down to the bright green eyes of his nephew and answered, "right now, we're heading to my car. Then we'll be going to a children's clothing store to get you outfitted in the proper uniform of a proper little boy. After that, we'll get a late lunch… I hope ya like cheeseburgers. Might be a bit of a stretch though, you don't look very much like a cat. Afterward, we'll go home."

"Home?" Harry asked with a little wonder in his voice and a little confusion about the cat line. He did hope his new cupboard would be a little bigger than the one he'd been using. It felt nice to have an adult hold his hand, even if the man was a stranger. He could feel that the man meant him no harm. Simply the fact that Harry was being taken away from Aunt Petunia was enough to make him look to the man as a hero. A hero that was dressed strangely, but still a hero.

The first clothing store they passed was the one they stopped in. Garret took Harry's hand and walked him into the store and caught the first store employee. "Excuse me. My nephew and I are going on a Safari and I need him completely kitted out. We'll need a hephelump rifle, a set of woozil traps and tigger grease."

"So, you're wanting the Poo collection then?" the older lady asked after looking at the bright green-eyed boy with the odd young man. The child was dressed something like a street urchin but his clothes were clean, if they weren't exactly a good fit.

"If you insist. We'll also need plenty of play clothes and a set of dress clothes. We may break down and go to the Opera or something. Tell me, are there any troupes playing The Rabbit of Seville anywhere local to Kensington?" Garret asked. He liked the older woman; she had caught on quite quickly to what he was doing.

"And who is our Christopher Robin here?" she asked in return. Rolling her eyes a bit at the outrageous silliness of the man.

"This important young man is my nephew. Harry James Potter. I'm Garret Evans," he said extending his hand to shake in greeting the older woman.

"I'm Mabel Corbett. Pleasure to meet you both. Now I'll just take this young man and we'll find the clothes he needs." She said and took Harry's hand, leading him away into the high shelves of products.

Garret grinned at the amazed look of the boy. He could easily see that Harry had never experienced anything as mundane as a shopping trip to get him new clothes. And given the history from canon, he wouldn't have until the summer before his first year. 'Today is the day that everything changes for Harry.'

While he waited, Garret got busy planning a new prank attack on old Fondlesmore. It would be a bit over the top, but well worth the expenditure of time and resources. Luckily there was a breeder in Wales that could be approached for the needed animals. 'I'll have to use a Turner to get them and send it off earlier. Gawanga, I love using temporal law bending to my advantage!'

Mabel had a surprisingly good eye when it came to fitting clothes to children. In a very short time Harry had a complete change of clothes on his small frame. And several fairly large parcels containing the remainder of the clothes that would be purchased.

The next stop, after Garret paid for Harry's new clothes, was a fast food outlet on the corner. Garret normally wouldn't even think of entering a place like this. The food was little better than garbage, but it would be filling and a treat for Harry. The plan would be to get him used to eating regularly with substantial helpings of food.

Luckily the malnutrition the kid had been dealt wasn't too bad at the moment. Pomfrey would fix that with the first check up. Her being a Healer she would be required to have privacy Oaths as well as the Hippocratic Oath of all Healers.

The drive home to Kensington was very nice for Garret. Looking over from time to time, he could see that the excitement of the day had caught up with Harry. Having a full belly helped to knock the kid out, so the drive was quiet with music from an oldie's station playing on the radio. The susurration of the road noise helped as well, easing the kid into sleep.

Garret wasn't positive, but the odd warmth he felt when he looked at Harry had to be something like parental protectiveness. Or it was that horrendous and incurable disease known as the 'affection infection'; not only was there no known cure it was completely untreatable. Although most people would be more than happy to be diagnosed with the symptoms, there are a few that are totally immune to the effects. People like the Dursley's, Snape, Lucius Malfoy and Fudge. There was also the high likelihood that old Dumbledore was equally immune, evidence for that is the track record of sending Harry to live at #4, and willfully ignoring signs of injury and mistreatment of the kid there.

Arriving at #42 Knights Cross Road, the Goofball Garage, Garret pulled into the drive and parked the Land Rover in the garage and got out. Popping open the passenger side door, he undid the seat belt around his nephew and picked him up to carry him inside. He then went around the back of the truck and silently cast a few shrinking charms on the day's purchases. It was just a matter of a few moments and the packages were shrunken and put into a normal non-expanded pocket of his duster. Harry was sound asleep through the entire procedure.

After putting the boy down on the sofa in the den, Garret went up the stairs to the bedroom level and dropped off the bundles in Harry's room, canceling the charms on them. Going to his room he opened the specially hidden and expanded closet and retrieved several Time Turners; then went on up to the Antic Attic.

Five minutes later Garret climbed up the stairs from the Prank Lab and went back to the den.

+O+

The thing about Time Turners that is a source of near constant amazement to Garret is that for the incredible usefulness of them, they are sorely under utilized by the wizarding world. 'Then again, it might be a really good thing that wizards are morons. Just think of the horrible crap that they could pull if they did think to use these things effectively.' He thought to himself, with a nervous shudder. His greatest fear was actually encountering a Pureblood wizard that had common sense and was capable of critical thinking.

Taking a few of the Turners and turning them one full day in succession got him the needed additional four days in which to act on his hastily developed plan on the way back from Little Whinging. The idea is to turn back with one, then turn back with another, until the temporal distance had been reached. Unfortunately in order for it to work properly, he had to carry the extra Turners with him. So, he spun back the days he needed to, one at a time in the attic of the Goofball Garage and apparated out to Wales.

In Wales he then made the purchase of his needed emissaries that would be loaded into a prank warhead. Then he took a small box that was only large enough at the opening to allow the creatures to crawl inside. Then he cast a powerful space expansion charm on the interior of it. The increase in size allowed for the container to hold over a hundred of them. Once that was done he carefully coaxed the animals into the box and sealed it.

After sealing it he put a feather light charm onto it, and cast a notice-me-not charm. Then he called for Fawkes. He had the opinion that Fawkes would be a useful ally in his prank war with the forces of idiocy and evil arrayed against Harry. After a brief conversation with the bird of fire, Garret and Fawkes came to an understanding. Surprisingly, Garret gathered that Fawkes thought Dumbledore was allowing his positions within the wizarding world to go to his head. That and they shared the opinion that Albus was a deluded idiot, making him a Target of Every Opportunity, a lot like Snape.

It didn't hurt that the bird had his own trickster sense of humor.

Fawkes understood that Garret believed the old fairy was an idiot. They both agreed that the old Headmaster and his pet Death Eater were appropriate targets of every opportunity. With that agreement, Garret and Fawkes came to an accord. The bird would help him to bring the old man back to the Light and away from his fame-induced belief of infallibility. The reputation of defeating Grindelwald and misleading the wizarding population that he had killed the enemy had gone far too much the old coot's head and Garret, along with Fawkes, was going to bring him down a few notches. At the very least Fawkes would have a good time out of it. Who would have thought that a semi-immortal avian would be so vindictive?

With correcting his wayward pet in mind, Fawkes took the charmed box in his talons and flashed out and back to Hogwarts. One of the more interesting things about that box was that the lid was charmed to fly off at the exact time Albus went to lunch the day Garret was picking up Harry. Since lunch begins around the same time that he had knocked on the door of the Dursley's, there should be at least a half hour for the animals within to carry out the planned for assault.

He went to the nearest Owl Post Office and set up another prank for Snidely. After all, he had just admitted to himself that Dumbledore and Snape were equal in his eyes. He didn't want one to feel jealous if more attention were paid to the other. It's only right that another prank warhead go out for Severus.

Just to keep it fair and not play favorites.

+O+

The headmaster had just shut the door to his office at the moment that Garret was seating himself on the love seat at his half-sisters house. Fawkes had been keeping an eye on the box he'd brought back a few days before, fully expecting to be the recipient of a memory that would keep him filled with vindictive avian mirth for years after the fact. He only had to be patient until Albus came in and saw what had happened in his absence.

Fawkes was rewarded for his patience when the lid flew off the box and the snout of the first to exit it poked out, sniffling and snuffling at a rate that would make one believe the creature was going to hyperventilate. Within minutes the box had emptied of it's cargo and then collapsed into dust that continued to disintegrate further. Can you imagine how hungry these beasts were after nearly four days of being trapped in a magically sealed box?

It's no wonder then when they attacked all the wonderfully spiced with magic silver implements that Dumbledore had arrayed throughout his office and desk surface, and gorged themselves. Word to the wise; never let your nifflers get too hungry. Fawkes was laughing his feathers off while being very happy his perch was gold rather than silver.

The phoenix could hardly wait until Dumbledore returned to his office to find that all his devices he used to monitor Harry Potter and the wards around the boy were now little more than scrapped precious metal and a few rare gems.

+O+

Once he stepped from the kitchen entrance to the Prank Lab, Garret rapidly went back to the den to check on Harry. The kid was still sleeping so he went over to the desk and composed a letter to the most trustworthy Healer he was aware of in the wizarding world. If he had known of another, he'd have decided upon them, but as it was, Poppy Pomfrey would have to do. The fact that she was employed by the Head-pain-in-the-ass was just icing. Also knowing how the woman would behave, Garret wasn't in the least concerned that she would inform the old geezer of Harry and his new situation.

Breakfast that Tuesday had not been enough to break the Headmaster from his shock of the previous day when he had returned to his office. The sight of all his monitors being devoured by ravenous nifflers had put him into a state near catatonia. The cries of near pain caused his assistant, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, to investigate. His good friend Severus promptly followed her. Neither of them were able to help him calm down. As a result, Madam Pomfrey had been called to provide a calming draught to aid in settling his fearful reaction.

As soon as the draught had taken effect, the old wizard promptly left the school; only to return several hours later with ashen features.

Harry Potter was missing! This was a dreadful state of affairs. If he were to call the DMLE in, their investigation would show that his relatives had poorly treated Harry and then they would be after him for the placement of the boy in the position to be mistreated on a daily basis. It wouldn't be very long after that Dumbledore would be forced to set aside his offices of authority and very possibly lose the Headmastership of Hogwarts.

Then there would be the criminal proceeding where it would come to light the number of times he had illegally Obliviated Arabella Figg after her reports of the condition of Harry Potter.

Calling on the Old Guard had proven to be less than useless. Most of them had no desire to become involved in a search for the boy when everyone KNEW that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named-Without-Hyphens was dead. It would be very difficult to mount a proper search with only himself, the Weasley's, Moody and Severus.

Severus was having his own problems. For some reason he could not get his feet into his shoes, no matter if he used a resizing charm or not. What was worse, his feet squeaked without being in the shoes. It wouldn't be quite so bothersome, but they stank as well, and the castle floors were cold. "It has to be Potter!" he exclaimed to no one in particular, conveniently forgetting that the only Potter alive was not in a position to know enough about magic to create such an effect.

Poppy was a tad concerned for Albus; he currently had a thousand-yard stare that was most disconcerting. So she had remained near to hand, rather than leave for the summer as her plans had been. The Headmaster had a habit of remaining year round at the school and in his current state she didn't want to leave him alone with only Snape there. Even Minerva had opted to forego her normal Holiday plans.

Typically Pomona Sprout would remain at the school as well, so as to care for and maintain her greenhouses. Without a competent Healer available, Poppy had decided that her plans to attend a Healers seminar in Italy should be put on hold this year. She could always obtain a copy of the transcripts of the various classes held.

She was seated beside Minerva at breakfast and had only just placed her second sausage on her plate when the oddest thing she'd ever had occur in her tenure happened. With the roaring sound of a muggle jet it flew through the upper window that owls used for delivery. It landed on the table in front of her with a chirrup and adjusted the tiny goggles it wore. It was a quite odd little creature, odder still because no one at the table had ever heard of anything approaching it. It looked just like a regular squirrel.

Granted a squirrel wearing a little leather cap, goggles and a tiny leather messenger bag with the strap crosswise over its chest. Reaching into the pouch, the creature pulled out a business card and handed it to Poppy; who read it aloud.

_**Hello My name is Rocky the Squirrel. **_

_**I am a Post Squirrel.**_

_**I have a Post for you.**_

"How odd!" Minerva exclaimed.

"Most peculiar." Filius agreed.

"It's something Potter or Black would have done." Severus said with no evidence to support the claim.

Poppy looked to the squirrel and took a deep breath before saying, "Alright, is there anything you require in exchange?"

Looking thoughtful for a moment the Squirrel took the card back and flipped it over. On the backside of the card was a single word. 'Nuts'. After reading that, Poppy called for a house elf and asked for a selection of nuts for the squirrel. When the dish filled with a variety of nuts appeared, Rocky reached into his bag again and pulled out the letter.

_Poppy Pomfrey_

_Head Table_

_Great Hall_

_Hogwarts, Scotland_

_Third chair from the left_

_Perplexed Healer_

_Dear Madame Pomfrey,_

_You don't know me. I would however ask that you begin practicing that part of the medical profession that is most impressive; Client Confidentiality. I have need of your services for the day. _

_I promise on my magic that this is no trick, nor are you threatened in any way to my knowledge. When you return to the Medical Wing, with the tip of your wand on this parchment, recite the Hippocratic Oath. _

_A friend to the Wizarding world._

Intrigued, Poppy folded the letter back up and put it back in its envelope. She finished her breakfast and stood to leave, noticing the squirrel still there. She asked it, "are you expecting a reply?" To which the creature nodded its head vigorously.

"Well, come along then. My post supplies are in my office." The squirrel ran to and then up her side to her shoulder where it happily continued nibbling on nuts that it had emptied from the dish and into its bag. With the company of the squirrel, Madame Pomfrey made her way to the Hospital Wing to compose the response, and perform the Oath on the parchment she held.

"Seems all rather cloak and dagger to me." She muttered to herself as she walked the halls toward her destination.

Once she arrived to her office, Poppy closed the door and placed a few wards for privacy. She had no idea what the need for such a long security password would be, but she felt that it had to do with her profession. The squirrel climbed from her shoulder to the desk and squatted, continuing to nibble on the nuts. Taking the parchment from the envelope and smoothing it open, she put the tip of her wand to it and recited the second Oath of a Healer. The long one…

"**I swear by Apollo, the healer, Asclepius, Hygieia, and Panacea, and I take to witness all the gods, all the goddesses, to keep according to my ability and my judgment, the following Oath and agreement:**

**To consider dear to me, as my parents, him who taught me this art; to live in common with him and, if necessary, to share my goods with him; To look upon his children as my own brothers, to teach them this art.**

**I will prescribe regimens for the good of my patients according to my ability and my judgment and never do harm to anyone.**

**I will not give a lethal drug to anyone if I am asked, nor will I advise such a plan; and similarly I will not give a woman a pessary to cause an abortion.**

**But I will preserve the purity of my life and my arts.**

**I will not cut for stone, even for patients in whom the disease is manifest; I will leave this operation to be performed by practitioners, specialists in this art.**

**In every house where I come I will enter only for the good of my patients, keeping myself far from all intentional ill-doing and all seduction and especially from the pleasures of love with women or with men, be they free or slaves.**

**All that may come to my knowledge in the exercise of my profession or in daily commerce with men, which ought not to be spread abroad, I will keep secret and will never reveal.**

**If I keep this oath faithfully, may I enjoy my life and practice my art, respected by all men and in all times; but if I swerve from it or violate it, may the reverse be my lot."**

(The English translation of the original Hippocratic Oath. Source, Encyclopaedia Britannica, 1954 edition.)

As the final word left her lips, Poppy felt a twitch and shift in the parchment she held and saw it grow into a stack of official documents. The top sheet, the one that had been the letter, had also shifted to have a new message written on it.

_Madame Pomfrey; as you can see, there is a lot of important information contained here. Never mind the charms used to get them to you. To be honest, I do not trust the man that sits in that golden throne at the Head table. Neither do I trust his pet Death Eater._

_That being said, thanks for your patience and willingness to continue with this missive. When you look at the documents that accompany this letter, you will find a most disagreeable situation that has been corrected with my presence and the hard work of the Goblin Nation._

_Before you inspect the documents, I have to explain that I had cast a low-level compulsion to have you do this in the privacy of your office. I apologize for this now, but it was a matter of utmost security for my ward. As previously stated I do not trust Dumbledore, nor Snape, and I am leery of the others. You were required by your profession to make an Oath that would forever be in effect before you actually began practicing. This oath prevents you from causing harm either through action or inaction; it also makes it a professional requirement to keep a Healer Patient Confidentiality. _

_Now, my address is #42 Knights Cross Road in Kensington. My name is Garret Sean Evans. The rest of the information will be made available to you upon your timely arrival this afternoon for a complete physical of a child._

_I sincerely hope you will agree to a housecall._

_Garret Evans._

Once she had read the letter, Poppy began going through the information in the documents. All that she could see were criminal neglect, abuse of authority and abuse of a minor. All this with certain names carefully blanked out with quite powerful charms. Other names were glaring in the abuse of authority, one especially: Albus Dumbledore. She had a very bad feeling that there was more that might even be worse, and felt that she didn't want to know.

Scribbling a quick answer to the post and giving it to the very odd little squirrel. Poppy then went to pack her equipment for the afternoon visit to the home of someone she hoped would have more answers and possibly be a friend she was able to trust. In the background the sound of the roaring jet could be heard as the squirrel flew out the open window and wended his way south.

With everything else happening in the past and the next day, Garret was happily sitting at his desk talking with Rocky. Really just explaining what he wanted done, the squirrel was really quite bright after all the extensive enchantments, charms and minor rituals that had been cast or performed on the flying squirrel. He hadn't started out as a flying squirrel, those not being native to England; he had been a normal red squirrel.

Garret had just finished writing the letter and putting the package together that Rocky would be delivering the next morning. The package was quite important; each and every document had been retrieved from the Prank Lab library where he had placed his copies of the Ministry Records. What he had put together was a glaring indictment of Albus Dumbledore and Minister Bagnold, followed by Minister Fudge.

The collusion of the high office holders within the Ministry was enough to make the average person shake in rage. He made a note to begin a slow trickle of that information to the various media outlets around the Magical U.K. 'I'll do that later, for now I'd better get Rocky off to Pomfrey.'

After sending the squirrel off to the school, Garret sat in his chair and noticed that Harry had woken while he was busy with the Post Squirrel. He watched with some humor as the boy looked around the room, squinting to see. It had taken Garret a fair amount of time setting up the den/trophy room. Some of the things couldn't exist without magic, others were just tweaked with magic, and still others were exactly what they appeared.

He'd had no end of fun in creating some of the more outré objects, mostly created due to memories of his own youth and childhood. Being strange for no other reason than to have fun was somewhat cathartic he had to admit. He wondered how long he could keep it up. Then the delight in the eyes of Harry showed that he could go on as long as he needed. Harry seemed especially taken with the creature in the cage.

That had been a permanent transfiguration of a live hedgehog to its current form. This particular permanent transfiguration had taken Garret nearly a week to recuperate from. Luckily the food was cheap and easy to get, being carrots and other types of vegetable. The bucket beside the cage had been enchanted to transfigure any vegetable matter into disks with demarcations marked on them in very small increments.

Without doubt the silliest thing Garret had made was the trophy Harry was presently looking at.

"I see it's caught your eye Harry."

"Why do you have the front of a car on the wall?" the child asked.

"Demolition derby, it was my first kill." Garret said, reveling in the look that screamed, 'are you for real?'

Harry stood up from the extremely loud yellow and neon purple plaid couch and onto the bearskin rug in front of it, then jumped off to the side when it growled. "Sorry about Brutus, I haven't found a better place to put him yet." Garret explained. Then, with his hand on Harry's shoulder, he gave the boy a tour of the house, starting with the den/trophy room.

He showed him the furry Ellipsis, a strange creature that only comes into existence at a pregnant pause. Harry seemed confused that an animal that seemed to have two sections that were nearly bald separating three furry spheres could even be real… "And another has been born Harry."

Then he explained the Nonce in the cage, an elusive creature most often worshipped by waiters and waitresses in Los Angeles, New York and the West End of London. The way to determine they are worshippers of the Nonce is when they say; 'I'm only doing this for the Time Being.' This creature was fed by all the wasted moments people leave laying about, easily caught and stored in the bucket near the cage. The Nonce was an odd looking thing with three legs, medium length fur and a short snout. It had eyes that looked like digital timepieces with different times represented by the pupils.

The tail looked as if it were the winding key for a normal alarm clock, with ears that resembled bells. When it purred it sounded just like the gears and verge and foliette of a clock ticking away.

All in all, Harry found the entire experience of the tour to be spectacularly weird.

Actually it was only weird in the den/trophy room. The rest of the house was reasonably normal, even if the commentary from the man that said he was his uncle was silly throughout. The one thing about the man was that he seemed genuinely interested in Harry. Especially when Harry pointed out that there wasn't a cupboard under the stairs, so where would he sleep?

"Harry, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why there is no cupboard under the stairs. You see I ordered an escalator to be installed, and a cupboard would be in the way. So you and I are going to have to bite the bullet and put up with the fact that you get a real bedroom of your own. I hope that's okay with you. I'm not very good with what kids want, so I just went with setting up a bedroom for you. I also hope that the race car bed I got for you is alright. If not, I can see about getting a giant mushroom?"

Harry couldn't believe what he had just heard, so he tried to get his head around it by asking. "I get a room of my own? Like Dudley?" He cringed, because he expected to be corrected for asking too many questions.

"Yes, but you may have to share it with a pair of wuzzats, they won't be around much. But it will be your room."

The rest of the downstairs was interesting to Harry in that he was told he had the run of that floor. There wasn't a room that he wasn't allowed in. Except the entrance to the basement. He was told there were machines down there that he could be hurt by, and Garret didn't want him to get hurt, so that door was locked.

The media room was what Aunt Petunia called a sitting room, but there was a stereo and T.V. with a VCR and a bookshelf filled with movies of all kinds. By the stereo were all sorts of tapes and records. Uncle called the T.V a radio that had moving pictures, and the stereo 'the big fancy, no crank victrola device'. It seemed there were almost as many movies and music media as there were books in the den/trophy room. Harry changed his mind when he was shown the second floor and the library there. He'd never seen so many books in his life. Then he was shown his room.

There was a plaque on the door that even said it was his room, 'Harry's Hideout' in big gold letters. When Uncle opened the door, he was amazed to see a bed as big as Dudley's at #4, only this one had a box around it shaped like a race car, bright red with gold stripes and letters. The sheets and blanket had the race car motif as well. On the walls there were posters of dragons, and footballers, a movie poster from before he was born of a boy with a girl and he was holding a bright lance of light in his hands, with a sphere behind him. On another wall there was a big bat in a gold ellipse.

Under the posters were two low dressers, and low bookshelves. The head of the bed had a light in it so he could look at picture books when it's dark and there was a big chest in the corner.

Lots of things like this were all over the room and the ceiling was dark blue with stars all over it that seemed to move. On opposite sides of the room were two doors, one was a closet with a step stool to reach the clothes hanging there, the other door led to a little office with a desk and a table. There were shelves over both the table and desk. On the desk was a box that looked like a little television, sitting beside another box that was enclosed. There was a board on a special tray that had a lot of numbers and letters all over it.

They left the room and Garret showed him the bath. The bath was neat as far as Harry could tell; it had a really big, but shallow tub and a shower stall. "I hope the bath is okay Harry, when I told the contractors I wanted to have a furo they gave me a very strange look. I don't think they even know what a furo is…." Then he explained how to use the 'furo' properly. Harry thought it was strange to take a shower and then get in the tub. But he wasn't going to say anything about it. His new uncle might be dangerous, and he really didn't want to make him angry.

"By the way Harry, anytime you think something is too silly come right out and say so. I don't bite… I might tickle you until you pee, but I don't bite."

Harry was amazed that the fears he'd mentally had were answered so quickly without a word from himself. The tour continued down the hall to his new uncle's bedroom. When the door opened it was with a little disappointment that there wasn't any of the silliness prevalent in the rest of the house. He imagined that his uncle wanted a space that was quiet and normal from the rest of the house, Harry could see a rack of books near the bed that looked interesting if only for the pictures on a couple on the nightstand.

Then they went downstairs and Garret fixed dinner for the two of them while he had Harry pick a movie to watch. "Since we're Bachin', we'll eat in the media room this evening Harry."

While Harry was at the shelves looking for a movie to watch, the sounds from the kitchen were shocking. There were the sounds of a chainsaw, high-speed drills, jackhammers, hammering, handsaws, air wrenches plus several explosions and then silence. Garret walked out of the kitchen through a billow of smoke with two plates with sandwiches and crisps on a tray in one hand and two bottles of soda in the other. "I thought I'd go for simple tonight Harry." He said by way of explanation. "Did you find a movie to watch?"

At the question Harry held up a tape case with a pile of fuzzy puppets on the front. "The Muppet Movie, good choice kiddo. I hope you don't mind something so serious. But, you did pick it." Garret set the tray and drinks down and took the case from Harry and set up the player. The next ninety minutes were filled with the two of them sitting on the floor with their backs to the couch watching Kermit and Fozzie and the rest of the Muppets.

While Harry was giggling at the escapades of Jim Henson's Muppets, Garret was busily plotting another assault on Dumbledore. Even though the Wizarding world is chock full of intellectually challenged nitwits, many would have sent post to his nephew. Not including the ones that would have sent nasty-grams filled with bubotuber pus or hexes, many would also have expected some sort of reply, even if it were only a thank you. Now, where would all that mail have been redirected? The answer to that question is simple, Fondles would have had it redirected to Hogwarts, where he could inspect it 'For the Greater Good'. That being the case, it would be best to allow for a fictional reporter to have delved deeply into the 'mysterious life of Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived.'

This would have to wait until Dumbledore had begun tearing his hair out looking for the boy, and failing miserably. That was the problem when you are 'The most powerful Wizard of the Age', you fail to think of the simple solutions to problems. 'No, whiskers is going to try and depend on Snape and Moody. Snape will conduct interviews with his sources to narrow down 'who kidnapped Potter' and Moody may actually think to use a point me spell.' Garret thought. Thinking about that spell, Garret was at a loss about how to scramble it.

There were options for confusing the point me, but none were that effective. 'Mebbe it would be best to set something up to catch old stumpy. Then again, with the Blood Wards actually working properly, it should keep unwanted people from finding the location without tripping over it by accident. I'll still set up the stumpy traps though.' With that decided, Garret went back to watching the boy watching the movie, and enjoying the fresh sound of a child's laughter.

An hour later, Harry had fallen asleep and Garret carried him to his room. After using a switching spell to change the boy's clothes to sleep wear, he went to the prank lab to plan. He had to set things up for a soon to be expected guest, with that in mind he used a Turner. This was risky; he could conceivably encounter himself more than once this way, so he had to use almost profligate numbers of notice-me-not charms while under his invisibility charm. It was fortunate that he hadn't spent much time at home over the linear days leading up to getting Harry. Otherwise it would have been difficult.

You try sneaking around your own house when you're at home and not be discovered by yourself. And if you can wrap your head around that, you're almost as loopy as Garret.

The first thing he did once he had turned to the past, he went to a pyrotechnics firm to obtain the strobing fireworks. These would be used to confuse the magical eye that old Mad-Eye used. These wonderful toys were second to last device set up in the home; actually, all the traps were set up as he got to them. Nearly all of these prank traps were keyed to the active magic emitted by the whirling eye of old Mad-Eye. The very last trap to be set up was aimed down the stairs and set to be triggered when the mini-flares were flashing. Of course, it's all in the aim too. It simply took ages to build fifteen spring loaded net bazooka's.

Imagine how much fun you can have with hookless fishing nets and spray contact adhesive. He'd decided on hookless for this particular trap thinking it would be nicer of him to save the ones with hooks for Death Eaters. You have to play to your crowd after all.

After setting up the Moody traps, Garret stopped at Harry's room for a few minutes to check on the kid. He knew the boy had troubles with nightmares and wanted to be there quickly in case he had one that night. It would take time, and a removal of a certain soul piece, but Harry would eventually get to the point of having normal nightmares. So, Garret took station in the only full sized chair in the room and kept vigil that night, dosing off and on. Only waking when he heard a sound that seemed abnormal from the sleeping child.

The following day was fairly full. Rocky returned shortly after breakfast, which was late that day, with the agreement to meet that afternoon from Pomfrey. Harry was busy learning what it was like to have an adult that liked him, and Garret was eating it up. The two of them were in the back garden with Garret watching as Harry played in and around the fort. It wasn't long before Garret was involved with Harry and playing. Mostly he was staying close while Harry climbed the ropes and swung on the monkey bars.

The laughter and giggling was what met Andy when she stepped into her own garden that morning. She liked to sit in the back and drink her tea after Ted went to work and listen to the birds sing in spring. Hearing a child next door at the odd neighbor's house had her curiosity piqued rather quickly. Her daughter Nymphadora had already managed to get into her normal summer routine with sleeping late and not getting to her homework until it would be a race between her getting it done and leaving for the train on September 1.

Standing, Andy looked over the fence to see what her charmingly strange neighbor was up to with a giggling child. Her knees nearly gave out when she saw who the child was. Harry Potter was at her next door neighbor's house! This bore some investigation.

"Good morning Garret! I see you have your nephew over." Andy called.

"Good morning Mrs. Cra… Tonks, yes, I do. Harry will be camping here from now on. Good thing I built the fort, otherwise it might get damp now and then."

"You aren't going to force that little boy to sleep outside are you?" Andy asked with a bit of shock.

Looking perplexed at what she said for a moment, Garret paused, "why ever would anyone HAVE to force a little boy to sleep outside when it's warm and dry out? I plan on sleeping out here myself now and then. It'll be fun, I'll set up a fire pit and we can make homemade ice cream. Or I could get a crank freezer and have a marshmallow roast." Garret paused again and then said.

"It might not be a good idea to have the marshmallows at that, his best friends parents are going to be dentists. You really don't want to get on the bad side of the B.D.A.; they have tons of special agents in the field that could cause no end of trouble for you if you cross them. We'll just have to rough it Harry and have salads and roast beast." He finished with looking at his nephew who had the look of someone that had been completely lost at this point, a look that was shared by Andy.

"Yes… I can see how that could be misunderstood. I was wondering if you and your nephew would like to have dinner with my family and I this week?"

"I don't know. Harry has an exceptionally loose schedule. We may be able to fit you in anytime between now and the first of September. Of course, we'll have to reciprocate. I hope you like broiled salad and green steaks… excuse me, I got confused again. That would be broiled greens and steak salad." Nodding his head as if it made perfect sense, Garret grinned with the look of someone that was enjoying himself.

Andy, after a short moment of thought, believed she knew what her young neighbor was up to. By speaking in such a confusing manner, he continually kept her off balance. While usually entertaining, it could be very difficult to get anywhere in a conversation with him. So she turned her attention to the small boy with the horrible scar on his forehead.

"Would you like to eat dinner at my house sometime this week Mr. Potter?"

Harry had gotten behind Garret the moment Andy had come into the garden and was watching her from around his uncle's leg. Garret put his hand on Harry's mop and gently patted. "In all seriousness, Harry is a little shy at the moment. I'm working on repairing that. I don't think it will take much for him to open up. In answer to the dinner question I think tomorrow night would be better than tonight, if it's alright. I have Madame Pomfrey coming by today for a check up on Harry and we may be a bit busy after she gets here. I'll be sure to bring a bottle of wine over."

With understanding in her eyes, but not for the real reasons, Andy knelt down and said to Harry, "I'm sorry Harry. I didn't realize that I was being a bit too forward. I'm Andromeda Tonks. I knew your parents, not well, but I knew them. I was in my fifth year the same year they came to the school."

"What were they like ma'am?" Harry asked, in a small voice. He couldn't believe his luck this week. He kept expecting to wake up from a very good dream and find himself still in he cupboard. He even pinched himself a few times. But his new uncle, weird and silly as he was, was still very nice to him. And now this lady that says she knew his parents. He was almost ready to cry from how everything was happening. "Aunt Petunia said they were drunks and didn't want me, and that they died in a car crash taking me to an orphanage."

Hearing this, Andy went into mother mode. Clucking her tongue and explaining that Harry's Aunt Petunia was telling a big lie. And went on to describe how pretty and sweet his mother had been when she was a first year. They had been in different houses, but even the upper year Slytherins could tell that Lily Evans was special.

And James Potter… well, Andy didn't take long to get into telling what stories she knew concerning the brash James and his friends. As it was all new to Garret, he sat back and listened to his neighbor telling tales about her brief knowledge of the Potters before they became the Potters. What kept him from saying anything about Harry learning about the wizarding world was the look of wonder and joy on his nephews face at finding out he wasn't a freak and alone. That his parents had been just like him, they had been able to do the things that Harry had but gotten punished for by his Aunt and Uncle.

The stories from their first year alone were enough to almost put Garret in awe. The creative genius behind some of the pranks the Marauders had been responsible for were incredible. Of course, the three actual pranksters had spent their entire lives knowing about magic, so the talent was there and evidently practiced; at least by the two Purebloods of the group. Stories of the later years in Hogwarts devolved to second hand from letters from her favorite cousin, Sirius.

Garret didn't see any danger in allowing Harry to know about his heritage early. It was just completely wrong for someone who wasn't a family member to decide on such a thing to begin with. He could see the need for keeping Harry grounded regarding the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' thing. 'When he's a little older I'll explain why he's famous, it'll probably still make him very uncomfortable. Gonna have to make sure he understands that you earn accolade and not have it handed to you on a platter for something you really had nothing to do with.' Garret thought to himself while listening to Andy tell Harry about his family.

Around three that afternoon, Pomfrey arrived.


	6. Chapter 6

**Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom**

**Chapter 6 **

**What do you mean you aren't from Control?**

Nymphadora Tonks had just stepped out of the front door of the home her parents owned in Kensington. She'd had thoughts of going into central London to some of the shops there. But her mother had forbid her that. She'd have to settle on the local shops for now. 'It isn't fair! I'm fourteen, I should get to go into the city if I want. Lots of muggle-born girls go there all summer long. Why couldn't we live in the city anyway?' It wasn't as if Nymphadora didn't like Kensington, because she did. It was certainly cleaner. It didn't help that her parents had decided before she was born to not have a floo connection either.

It was just like they had nothing on their minds but making her life difficult.

So rather than have a row with her mum, she would walk to the nearby shopping area that held a small wizarding general store of sorts. 'Magdeline's Mis-Match' wasn't well known in the wizarding world. But it was alright for local magicals to do minor shopping for some standard supplies, a few books and Magdeline even had a part of the shop set aside for teens to hang about and have wizarding soft drinks and candies while talking about important things. Like what teachers they hated, Snape. What classes they hated; Potions. Boys and make-up tips. How bored they are at home. Boys. When they should get together to study for the summer homework and boys.

Most importantly, Magdeline's was a place to get away from the parents and at least act like they were having fun. That and the place kept them out of trouble mostly. It was a good place to meet her few friends that were allowed to go out into the world without their parents, even though this would be the first year she was allowed herself. She locked the front door and went up the sidewalk and made the corner and just barely heard the sound of what could have been apparition or a car backfiring.

She stopped for a moment, thinking to turn around to see what it was, and then, Nymphadora kept walking. She was supposed to meet Hestia, a girl in the year ahead of her in Gryffindor, to do a little cosmetic shopping.

-O-

Popping in across the street under the cover of some trees, Pomfrey saw a very nice neighborhood. The house she was looking for was a comfortable looking home with a little clutter in the front garden, but organized clutter. The hose was coiled and hanging on a hook on the wall. There were some flower beds, but they mostly held low maintenance plants like low bushes and some hearty herbs. The grass, while not recently cut, was lush and cared for. The house itself, was a stone native to the area, with a warm brown to the color.

Squaring her shoulders, Poppy adjusted her travel hat and stepped across the street, being careful to watch for the muggle operated horseless carts and the big busses. It seemed a little foolish to her to even bother with it, as there was no traffic at the moment. But, she remembered her Muggle Studies very well, and thought it never a bad idea to keep up the practice.

As Poppy stepped onto the property, she felt the distinctive pressure of defensive wards that scanned her. From her own background she could tell that the first was an intent ward that scanned her for her emotional state. She didn't know what other wards were on the property, because her emotional state was curiosity, and intent to perform the job of a Healer. This meant that the other wards allowed her to pass without any defenses activating.

She knew there were some that would have been able to cover other, more nefarious reasons behind their visit, but she wasn't one of them. Still, she was intrigued as to why the wards even existed. The last war had ended a few years ago, yes, but there was no one that she knew that had any active ones outside of the paranoid and the wealthy.

And most of the wealthy, she would much rather not deal with.

Getting closer to the door, Poppy could hear voices in the back garden. One was a child that she couldn't make the words out, which seemed to ask some sort of question. The next was a woman's, answering with a delighted tone. She also heard a good-humored male voice that she could tell what it said. "Excuse me. The wards just tripped and we have my expected visitor."

That voice was followed by the sound of a gate opening, and a man came around the corner. She saw an attractive young man, with a happy glint in his eyes and laugh lines already forming around his eyes and mouth. Poppy could tell he was well humored from the muggle tee shirt he wore. It had the legend, 'eeeeeeeeew! Nasty medicine Teaspoon!'

"Hello! I'm Garret Evans. You must be Madame Pomfrey. I'm so pleased you could come, my nephew is in back." The man said as he reached her and extended his hand to greet her.

Taking his hand, Poppy replied, "I'm glad I could come Mr. Evans. Now why don't you tell me what this is all about and why Albus would appear in records that would have a child involved in such terrible circumstances?"

His face smoothed out to a seriousness she felt a bit uncomfortable with. The humor was still in his eyes, but there was a little sadness too. "Madame Pomfrey, what I have to tell you will make the Headmaster out to be a villain and I can't honestly say it would be inaccurate. My nephew is Harry Potter, and let me tell you about the last four years of his life. He doesn't know that anyone knows, and we need to keep that fact quiet, but…"

And then he told Poppy everything he knew about his nephew to this point. The fact the man knew the signs of abuse as part of his training and knew ways to counteract the effect that seemed to be strange at first, but she agreed that the best way to deal with it is the approach he was taking.

Surprisingly, it took little time for him to bring her up to speed concerning his nephew. Perhaps it was more because of how little time Harry had actually spent with his Aunt, but it could also be that Mr. Evans had only briefly covered the topic with as little detail as she needed to know in order to know how to treat her famous patient. As he spoke, she began to feel a desire to strangle the Headmaster with his own beard. Poppy felt sure that it wouldn't be the last time either when it comes to Harry Potter.

In just over fifteen minutes, Garret had brought her up to the level of knowledge to be able to do her job without her having to ask uncomfortable questions of the boy. Nodding, she asked if they should go to the back to meet the boy and he agreed. She even quickly agreed with his idea of him being silly for it's own sake to keep the boy comfortable with her. Although, Poppy couldn't bring herself to the same level of oddity that Garret could, she felt it a good thing the boy's uncle was willing to do so.

A man that would destroy his own credibility as sane for the aid of family was someone that should be respected in her opinion. It certainly wasn't something she could do herself, but Poppy had already seen a truly lucid and completely aware Garret Evans just now. And he had explained what he would be doing and allowing her to know that she was the only person he had trusted with the knowledge that he wasn't as he appeared.

"I may act like a loon Madame Pomfrey, but that is to put my enemies off guard and to help Harry. The fewer people that know the better; if you like I can Obliviate the knowledge from you, but only if you wish it and cannot trust your ability to keep it quiet." Garret explained to her.

"No, Mr. Evans. Though I believe you have a good reason for the offer, I'd prefer to keep my memory. I shall treat the information the same as if it were about a patient; confidentially." Poppy responded. That and she didn't like the thought of anyone obliviating her, no matter the reason. A person is their memories; take them away and that person may be a different person than before.

With the agreement to keep her memories and his secrets, Garret lead Poppy to the back garden where she found Harry Potter talking with none other than Andy Tonks. Introductions happened as is normal in these situations and Garret explained that Poppy was there to look him over and to see if there was anything he needed to have corrected. If he was sick and didn't know or if there were any pains that could be fixed easily or over time.

Looking far more serious than Andy had seen him, Garret looked to Poppy and asked, "Madame Pomfrey, will it be possible for you to do this for my nephew and not say anything to or about this to the Headmaster? I don't trust him and I'm afraid he may try to take Harry and put him back with my half-sister."

"Mr. Evans, I take my Oaths very much to heart. Regardless of what I find I will not divulge the information to anyone without your prior approval." Poppy received a nod of acceptance from Garret and Andy saw a relieved look grow on her young neighbor's face. Then the light of humor reappeared with more force and he said.

"GREAT! I'll go bake some tea and steep some biscuits while you poke and prod Harry." He then had them all follow him inside where he went into the kitchen, while Poppy began her check up of Harry in the Den. Eyeing the odd collection of silliness in the room she had Harry tell her about them.

Keeping the look of the professional Healer was difficult for Poppy at this point. There were moments where she could barely contain the giggles that threatened to erupt. She knew for a fact that the Nonce and the Ellipsis weren't real creatures. But the thought that her host had put into the creation of the exhibits had impressed her. And it was all to make life more fun for the boy she was beginning to think had spent the last four years of his life in some sort of concentration camp. The boy was smart, that much was certain, but it appeared that he was underfed, and certainly poorly treated by the people that had been his guardians before Mr. Evans had come to take him.

This Garret Evans was a very odd man in his silliness, yet no matter how much Poppy might be confused by his manner, it did seem to be effective for Harry Potter. Her diagnostic spells were giving her worrisome results, but nothing that couldn't be overcome with the right potions and enough time. Which she could tell, Mr. Evans was more than glad to provide for the boy. If she hadn't given her word not to say anything at all about her most famous patient, Poppy would be ready to transfigure the Headmaster's beard into a family of boa constrictors to choke the life out of the old fool.

Making a list of potions for Harry to take and deciding to come by every weekend for the next month, on Fridays, to vanish some bones that had healed improperly and give the boy skele-grow overnight. When the subject of these weekly visits was brought up, Garret gleefully said that it would be welcome to have another adult around to help Harry get used to the normal life he'd missed out on. "Harry might get lonely being the only grown up around here ya know!"

Of course this had been said while Garret was wearing an apron that had the legend 'Don't kiss the cook unless you really mean it, and don't mind he has beer on his breath.' Along with a chef's cap that had the words 'Property of the Swedish Chef…Bjork, Bjork, Bjork!'

When it was time to leave, Poppy was lead to the door by Garret who talked to her outside with the door closed. "I really appreciate you coming to help my nephew Poppy. He's the only relative I have left that matters. Tooney and Vernon were cruel to him and I want to fix all that they broke. I hope you understand my reasoning for my odd behavior now."

Nodding her head for a moment, Poppy looked him in the eye and said, "I do understand Mr. Evans… Garret, he's a sweet little boy that has been horrifically treated by the people that were supposed to love him. He seems to think you are a very silly man, but he also seems to like it here. While I was giving him his physical in your Den, after I asked him about the room, he described everything there with a look of awe. And when I questioned how he knew all that, he said it was what you had told him. He seems to have a very good memory, I believe you told me you only told him that silliness once?"

"Just once." Garret admitted.

"But," Poppy continued, "you should be careful to not take it too far. Be certain to establish some rules for him and some age appropriate chores. Here is my prescription for the potions you will need. Since the skele-grow is a rigidly controlled potion, I shall bring each dose on my visits on Fridays. I shall stay overnight with him to make sure he doesn't do anything to injure himself during the new bone growth."

"I understand what you mean Poppy, pretty soon I'll tone it down around Harry and only be the really odd uncle when there are people around. I'm going to keep up the silliness around him; I want him to get used to it. That way he'll know when I'm truly serious about things and be more likely to listen to rules. If you can, please make the skele-grow yourself. I can make most of the others. Or I can ask Andy. If you would keep the fact I'm not as odd as she thinks secret for awhile? I'd like to break the news to the Tonks family myself.

Only because it's so fun to have her eyes glaze over when I say something that she doesn't expect." Garret said to her.

"Very well." Poppy said, then with a knowing smile, "you should be careful around Andromeda Tonks, Garret Evans. She has a look in her eye I have seen all too often from Pureblood mothers. I shouldn't think it would be terrible… and for what it is worth, I agree with her as well. Don't refuse it out of hand when the time comes."

Getting a true confused look on his face for the first time since his arrival in this reality, Garret asked, "what do you mean?"

"It isn't my place to say. But don't deny it without thinking hard on the consequences of not accepting. You have to remember where I work and understand that I know more of the story than most." Poppy looked up the street in the direction that the youngest Tonks was walking from at that moment, smiling a little with mischief in her eyes, she said, "Well, I must be off Garret. I shall see you Friday evening for my first bone treatment on Harry."

"Alright Poppy, if I'm not here, Harry will be next door I think."

With that Poppy spun on her heel and popped out with apparition. Garret looked in the direction that Poppy had and saw the same teen girl. Thinking nothing of the sight, he went back inside the house to make a hot meal for himself and Harry. Sandwiches were all fine and good, but not right for a good diet when it comes to a young boy who needs a balanced one.

-O-

Most of the way back to her house after a wasted afternoon waiting for her friend to show at Magdalene's, Nymphadora Tonks was just a bit upset. Hestia hadn't shown, it wasn't the first time that Tonks had been stood up by one of her friends. It happened regularly, all too regularly.

She often wondered if her friends weren't as good and close as she had hoped. She got along with her year mates in Hufflepuff. She gossiped about everything the girls in her dorm did. She sat with Hestia at the Gryffie table during weekend lunches and the two did homework together in the Library.

Tonks was pleased with her grades, they were at the top of her year in her House, even with the Acceptable she receives in Potions. That one was almost unheard of for anyone outside of Slytherin to get a mark that high that consistently. She felt it might have been because her head of House had taken Snape aside and pointed out that though he could run his classes the way he saw fit, and could mistreat any student verbally as he liked. If he continued with the verbal abuse of the teen that can morph her features, he might find himself getting bad ingredients from the greenhouses in retribution. Mostly because the singling out of Nymphadora had been so blatant that all the Professors had made a comment about it to the man. Or possibly the fact that Alastair Moody had taken an interest in her for a possible later career in the Aurors had something to do with it.

Tonks thought to herself, 'Then again, Sprout may only have done it because I'm a 'Puff, not because she really thinks that highly of me. At least she is fair to everyone. Sometimes I wish Mum and Dad could afford private tutors.' She sighed as she kicked the loose stone she'd found on her way home. She didn't kick it hard, that was the last thing she wanted; if she kicked it too hard, it might break a window in the neighborhood and she wouldn't hear the end of it for months.

Looking up for a second as she walked and kicked the stone a few feet, she saw that Madame Pomfrey was at the new neighbor's house. The new neighbor that Mum had talked about in the post and on the way home from King's Cross. Keeping her head up, Tonks stopped kicking the stone down the path and forgot about her fair weather friends that only seemed to want her around when she could do something for them, like sit through a class for them when they wanted to skive off during her free periods. Most of the time that only happened when it was the same lesson she'd had the previous day. It did help her own grades, but at the same time it did piss her off a bit.

That was something to think about for another time. She stared as the man and Madame Pomfrey talked as she walked down the street to her house. She could see the man had a good build, and wasn't really old, like she had thought. For some reason, Tonks had it in her mind that the new neighbor was around her mother's age, maybe a little younger. But he looked to be only twenty or so.

Shrugging her shoulders at her own thoughts, Tonks looked at the man. While he wasn't bad looking, he also wasn't really memorable in his looks. He looked pretty average, handsome, but average. Then he looked up at her, even at the distance she still was, Tonks could tell how green his eyes were. His eyes were beautiful, and they shined with an inner light. She almost broke into a run to get closer to those eyes. Then he turned and went back into his house.

Stopping for a moment, Tonks wondered why her chest felt strained, and then she found that she'd stopped breathing and couldn't tell when she'd done that. Shaking herself, she walked the rest of the way to her house and went in to get ready for dinner. Her Dad would be home pretty soon and dinner would be ready shortly after. Tonks put the man next door out of her mind for now.

It was spaghetti night at the Tonks house. The thought of her dad snorting a noodle out his nose from some of the prank stories made her grin.

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Harry couldn't believe he wasn't dreaming. The man that said he was his uncle the day before was still there, and Harry was still at the new house. For the first time, apart from when he went to Mrs. Figgs, he had slept in a real bed. More than that, he'd been fed twice the previous day, slowly getting out of bed and noticing that he was still wearing the pajama's that Uncle had gotten him. 'If I'm still dreaming, I don't ever want to wake up!' Harry thought excitedly. It was so strange to have all the new things happening to him. Uncle was nice, but very silly. And he hadn't yelled at Harry once!

Then Harry smiled when he remembered the movie from the evening before. He'd never been allowed to see any television before, and Uncle had let him pick the movie to watch. He couldn't read yet, but the picture on the front looked interesting. It was all about the adventures of a frog and his friend that was a bear. It didn't make sense, but the songs were fun, and the chases were funny.

Harry liked that the nice frog won in the end. But he couldn't figure out why a pig would like a frog the way Aunt Petunia seemed to like Uncle Vernon.

Then again, Uncle Vernon didn't really look any more like a real man, with his very heavy mustache, than Aunt Petunia looked like a woman. Harry had seen pictures in the books they gave Dudley that looked like some animal that swam that reminded Harry of Uncle Vernon, and Aunt Petunia looked more like another kind of animal when he screwed his eyes up just right. New Uncle said she looked a little like a horse, and Uncle Vernon like a walrus.

Harry thought that maybe those were the animals he'd seen in Dudley's picture book. It certainly fit with what new Uncle had said. Uncle Garret was really nice too, but sometimes his eyes would glimmer with something and for no reason he would laugh. It was a fun laugh too. Not the kind that Uncle Vernon would have where someone had been hurt or lost their job, but the kind that… Harry didn't know how to describe it.

But he really knew that Uncle Garret was fun, just very, very strange.

He really liked watching T.V. without having to sneak, and the sandwich was really good. Harry was scared when he woke up that morning though. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would have been really mad at him sleeping until the sun came up. So he rolled out of the race car bed and went to his door. Opening it, he sneaked downstairs, hoping to get to the kitchen and make breakfast before Uncle Garret woke up and found him not already finished.

Creeping down the stairs, he silently rushed to the swinging kitchen door and went to push it open. Harry knew, that sometimes someone would be nice to you and then realize you were a freak and then really punish you, he wanted to avoid that if he could, Uncle Garret might send him back to Privet drive.

Opening the door he went first to the refrigerator where the eggs and bacon would be. He put them on the counter by the stove and then turned to the table to get a chair. That's when Harry noticed he wasn't in the kitchen alone; Uncle Garret was already there.

"Whacha doon there kiddo?" Garret asked him.

"I'm sorry Uncle, I didn't mean to sleep so late. I promise not to do it again! I'll make breakfast really fast!" Harry said, rushing it all out so fast that it was almost one word. The parts that Garret could actually hear. To him it sounded more like a long series of 'I'm sorry's!'

Nodding his head as he looked at Harry, Garret did his best to keep the smile and humor of the situation from his face and voice. And finding it surprisingly easy to do, mostly because the child was terrified that he was in trouble for not waking early enough to do a chore he had no business doing in the first place. "Harry, climb up in the chair. I'm going to do something that I absolutely hate doing for very long. I'm going to be serious for a few minutes."

Knowing he was going to be yelled at for not having breakfast ready yet, Harry slowly climbed into the chair that he'd tried to pull to the counter and stove. Once he was sitting, he held his head down, flinching at the idea of his new Uncle being mad at him. Then he found himself being picked up and settled into a lap. Something that never happened to him before, ever!

Then Uncle's arms were around him. "Harry, you never have to cook here. And I don't expect you to do anything of the kind here. In fact I would rather you wait until you're older before doing it. Cooking can be dangerous and you could get hurt at your age. I know what you are about to say, but I would rather you never compare me to my sister or her husband. I will never hit you, or make you do things that are too much for you to do. Okay?"

The voice was soft and right in Harry's ears, the arms of Uncle around him making him feel safe. Harry relaxed his tensed body after Uncle spoke, never raising his voice. The boy couldn't believe that this was real. Uncle Vernon would have already had him locked up in his cupboard.

"Besides, I've already had my moo juice and toast."

Getting up, Garret put Harry back in the chair and turned to the counter. Looking at what the kid had pulled from the fridge, he went back to the box and took out milk and butter. Reaching over the stove, he then pulled down a griddle and some vanilla from the spice shelf. Drawing the flour over and a canister of baking powder after getting down a big steel bowl.

He put everything on the table far enough from Harry so the boy could watch but not do anything; Garret began mixing everything together. It had been awhile since he'd had flap-jacks himself and thought that a stick to your ribs type of heavy on the starch breakfast would be just the thing for the kid to begin having good memories of family breakfasts. He'd go back to silly after, but that didn't mean he had to be completely serious while preparing the batter.

While Harry watched, he juggled four eggs around and over his head with one hand while he scooped flour into the bowl, then added the milk. Then just a pinch of the baking powder, afterward snagging the eggs with his free hand and setting them on the counter. He'd never been able to crack 'em one handed. Well… he could, but it's pretty messy. Cracking the eggs, he separated the yolks from the whites and saved them for later. He'd add them to a cake for the weekend.

Dessert for after the rib dinner he was planning.

Next he carefully added a single teaspoon of vanilla and took out a whisk and whipped the daylights out of the mixture.

Fifteen minutes later Harry had a plate with a short stack of cakes, a side of bacon and was digging in. Garret finished another short stack and put the makings away. Sitting down, he watched his nephew eat nervously. Taking a bite of his own pancakes, Garret said, "Harry, there are very few things you could do that will get me to yell at you. And most of them would be something that could hurt you. You are not in trouble.

If you like, you can help me with the dishes, and then we can go watch some cartoons. Or we could watch Godzilla terrorize Tokyo…" he pauses for a moment, "Dudley hasn't been to Tokyo before has he? I mean, the Japanese had to get the idea from somewhere!"

Harry had no idea what Uncle Garret was talking about, whatever Godzilla was, he'd never heard of it. He was pretty sure he'd find out.

Breakfast ended, and they washed the dishes then went to the media room for awhile. After that was done, Garret had Harry get his teeth brushed and dressed.

Stepping into the back garden, Harry saw something that he couldn't figure out what it was. It could be confused for a shed, but that wouldn't explain the rounded points on the walls of it. The wall facing the house held a door that was set with hinges at the bottom, making it into a ramp when it was opened. To one side was a set of swings attached to the little building, there was a slide too. On the other side, a pair of bars stuck from the side of the building with rungs evenly spaced from the wall to the short set of steps at the other end. Behind the structure, there was a pole from a hole in the wall and a heavy beam that stuck out with a rope hanging from it to the same hole. Over all, the building was pretty big and looked to have a couple of levels to it.

Looking to his Uncle, Harry asked, "Sir, what is that?"

Smiling in a way that was an expression of sheer joy, Garret answered. "This Harry is only the third greatest toy ever invented by modern man. The first being a large cardboard box that appliances come in, the second being a tree house and then there is this. The backyard fort!"

"Fort?" Harry had a confused look on his face, Uncle had said it was a toy. To his mind that meant it was for Dudley, but Dudley wasn't here. So why was it in the back garden?

"Of course. It's a great thing to have Harry. With it you can play cowboys and Indians, or pretend it's a submarine, a space ship, a pirate ship, even a time machine! There is only one thing a toy like this really needs."

"What does it need sir?"

"A little boy to play in it! When the new has worn off of it, you can invite friends over to play, or have meetings of the super secret no girls allowed club you are going to form."

"Friends?" this really confused Harry. An adult telling him he would have friends and not being bothered by the idea. But then he caught on that maybe it would be better than the Dursley's. Uncle Garret really didn't act anything like them at all. It still confused Harry a little, but he thought he could get used to it. The whole idea of friends began to sink in and he had a sudden warmth fill him. It wasn't like the thing that happened at Aunt Petunia's house. That had scared him a little, this was completely different. He didn't know what it was, and was afraid to say anything about it to Uncle Garret for now. But he did like the feeling, it grew when he looked up to his uncle and the man smiled at him.

It took Garret most of two hours that morning to coax Harry into playing in and around Fort Padfoot, but after that the kid was all over the garden. Once he got over his nerves he was also climbing all the places that were meant to be climbed, and a couple that weren't. Garret was concerned for a bit about his nephew, being of two minds about keeping too close an eye and not having enough presence to keep Harry from being hurt.

Even back when he was building the thing, Garret had taken into consideration that little boys are supposed to get hurt when they roughhouse, it's how they learn and get stronger. And there was plenty to show that Harry Potter wasn't afraid of anything except rejection, a little fall from ten feet wasn't going to keep him on the ground. With that determined, Garret managed to talk himself into being close enough in case he was needed, but not interfere with the boy.

'Damn my own childish nature!' Garret finally exclaimed in his mind. He just couldn't keep himself from getting involved with the game his nephew came up with. He was supposed to play the evil robot monster out to destroy all life, where Harry was the brave young hero that had to get to the nuclear power supply for the ultimate devastator weapon that would reduce the universe to a giant bowl of pudding.

That game went into lunch where Garret made franks with mac and cheese for Harry. Extra calories and starches for the underfed boy, then it was back to the garden to continue playing. Not very long after, Andy Tonks came over and invited them to dinner later that week, then the other lady arrived.

Harry wasn't quite as happy with her, she gave him nasty tasting medicines and poked him and waved a stick around while she talked with him about Uncles trophies. She did explain what she was doing with the stick, she was a witch and she was casting spells to see how healthy he was. 'Wow! Magic!' was all Harry could think when she told him.

Afternoon tea was fun and Nana Andy, that was what Mrs. Tonks told Harry to call her, went back home to fix dinner for her family. She did make sure that he and Uncle Garret would come the next evening for dinner before she left. Then the other lady, Madame Pomfrey, left saying she would be back that Friday to visit and give Harry some special medicine and perform a 'procedure', whatever that is.

Then it was back to the garden to play with Uncle until dinner, which was pork chops and potatoes with a salad, and another movie that Harry got to pick. Except for the first day, that was how things went for Harry and Uncle the rest of the summer. Harry never had a good day that he could remember until his odd uncle arrived. Now the only days that he really hated were Friday evenings.

Madame Pomfrey would come and the procedure turned out to be vanishing a bone or two from him and making him drink a really, really, really nasty medicine before he went to bed. The only good thing that Harry saw coming from those visits was that when he woke up on Saturday, the bones had regrown and he felt stronger.

The rest of the time was a regular dose of nasty medicines that he had to take before he ate lunch and one before bed. After a couple of weeks of this Harry noticed he had gotten a little taller and had filled out. He didn't tire as easily and sometimes he wouldn't be sleepy enough to go to bed. Uncle Garret explained that the potions were giving him a little overload of energy and he could stay up a little after until his body got more used to it.

-O-

The next day after Harry's first visit and treatment by Madame Pomfrey was almost a carbon copy of the day before. Harry rushed to the kitchen in the morning, trying to get breakfast made before he got into trouble, only to find Uncle there first. Uncle was in front of the stove making breakfast again.

He must have just started, because Harry hadn't smelled anything cooking before he made it to the kitchen. He watched Uncle move around the kitchen wearing a silly apron, all frilly with words on it. Today was sausage, eggs, and cereal with a big glass of orange juice. Then it was back to the bathroom to brush his teeth and they watched something other than a cartoon. Now he understood what Godzilla was and thought Uncle was right, Dudley did seem a lot like the big lizard.

Lunch was different, being sandwiches again and not very heavy. Uncle reminded Harry that they were going to Nana Tonks for dinner. Then it was back to the garden to play some more. It was approaching six in the evening when Uncle came running out of the house to the garden, holding the hand of a girl that Harry could tell was pretty. She looked confused and out of breath.

-O-

Garret had gone back into the house around four after casting a few alarm charms on his nephew in case the boy got hurt playing. He wasn't sure of what he was going to do to confuse whomever came over from next door to let him know that it was time for dinner. But he did know he was going to have fun with it. He'd found that it was very entertaining to be completely improvisational in dealing with wizards when speaking with them. The confused gaze and stuttering of incomprehension never lost its appeal for Garret.

Wizards are gullible and very childlike mentally. The tweaking for fun during a conversation was always more fun than a barrel of stink sap or invisible ink.

Promptly at five forty five p.m., there was a knock at the front door. Garret knew when the person who had knocked had crossed the wards. He was hoping it would be Andy, so he could tweak her sensibilities some more. He wasn't sure why he enjoyed confusing the woman as much as he did, but he did enjoy it. It was almost as much fun as the time he would have the non-sequitor discussions with his real mother, although Andy Tonks didn't seem to quite follow him most of the time.

Opening the front door of the Goofball Garage, Garret leaned on the doorframe and looked into the eyes of the girl that had knocked. Bubble gum pink hair, flaring bellbottom jeans that had been out of style for twenty years, even when they had been in style. And a tee shirt that had the word 'CUTE' emblazoned on it were the first things that caught his attention. The azure eyes of the girl were commanding of the same interest.

She had a heart shaped face with a slightly too large nose that did nothing to harm her attractiveness. Pierced ears with purple plastic earrings and the hair told him exactly who it was, Nymphadora Cassiopeia Tonks, polymorph and hopeful future Auror. And she was fourteen at the moment, a scary age for a man that was forty-seven in a twenty year old body.

It was only a split second before Garret had a plan for confusing the daughter of Andy Tonks. "Were you followed?" he asked, as he poked his head out and looked both ways up and down the street. Grabbing her hand he pulled her into the house and said, "Gotta run! We don't wanna be found. Quick this way!"

He pulled her behind him as he ran up the stairs to the guestroom that had been converted into a library. Running across the room, Garret grabbed the top of a book on the fourth shelf from the top, middle of the row and pulled it back. The shelves spun around and he stepped into the opening, still pulling the girl behind him. Inside the hidden closet he reached over and pulled on a lever, the wall spun again and they were in the Den on the first floor. He drug her passed the displays of oddity he had created back to the entry and across the hall into the kitchen.

They went across the kitchen and into the attached garage and up a flight of stairs there. Opening another door he pulled Nymphadora into another room, hardly larger than a closet and pulled another lever. The door opened again and they were in another room entirely. Rushing through the door of this room and down a flight of stairs and into an office. In the office Garret dragged the girl into a broom closet and flipped a switch and opened the door again, showing they were back in the Den with the odd trophies. Back to the entry and to the back of the house where the back door led to the Garden. Where he rushed to Harry inside the Fort and pulled the ramp door closed behind him.

"I think we lost them!" Garret said excitedly. "They'll never find us here." He said and looked at the very out of breath girl he had drug all over the house and through several short duration portkey portals and into the back garden. "Now, Agent 99… what's the report on K.A.O.S.?"

"What?" Tonks asked.

"HUH?" from Harry.

"You're not Agent 99?" Garret asked with a look on his face of disbelief, as if he had somehow managed to mistake her for someone else.

"NO! I'm Tonks from next door. My mum told me to come get you for dinner."

Looking at Harry for just a very short second, Garret looked into her eyes and asked, "Are you sure that would be a good idea? I mean Harry is just skin and bone, hardly enough for soup and I would just be a bit stringy. I hope your mother has a good tenderizer. But what do I know about Pureblood dinner customs, I suppose I'll have to lend her my big missionary pot too."

Tonks looked at the man in a daze and asked back, "Are you crazy?"

Garret, fighting the smile that struggled to show, nodded his head in confirmation of her suspicion and said, "No."

Then, looking to his nephew, Garret said, "Okay Harry. Go get cleaned up and wear the tee shirt I put out for you."

"Okay Uncle." Harry said. He was completely confused by his uncle. The man seemed to be a live action cartoon like they had been watching in the mornings. It was fun, but he was all over the place. Harry was worn out just watching him sometimes.

Nymphadora Tonks hadn't expected the action of the man her mother had asked her to retrieve. When he had opened the door wearing a printed tee shirt that said 'the five major food groups… PIZZA!' she should have had some inkling. When he grabbed her wrist and dragged her all over his property and the popping from one room to the another on different floors running the whole time.

Tonks thought her heart would give out from lack of oxygen. Her legs were tired, and her lungs were straining to catch a breath. And the things she'd seen, 'What the hell is an Ellipsis anyway?' 'Was that a car on the wall?', 'Nice kitchen.' Were some of the thoughts that passed through her mind.

Then she was shocked beyond any measure that her impromptu guide could have come up with. He dragged her to the back garden to that odd little building that had swings and a slide for kids and she saw him. Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived!

-O-

The next time Tonks saw the little boy he had a tee shirt very much like his uncles, only this one had a pair of yellow eyes that seemed to be staring at you. She even jumped when it winked at her during dinner. The fact that the new neighbor seemed to be crazy, but in an entertaining way confused her too. The main reason she was as tolerant of the whole thing as she was; was because the new neighbor was the uncle of The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter.


	7. Chapter 7

**Garret Evans and the Wizard of Idiom**

**Chapter 7**

Garret had no idea how it had happened. But here he was, riding on the Hogwarts Express with Nymphadora sitting across from him in the compartment. How he had lost the argument had been beyond him. It hadn't even helped that the girl had argued with her parents as well. Certainly her argument had been much louder and much less well reasoned in attempting to point out the insanity of it.

But, Andy Tonks had apparently made up her mind, and, when a Daughter of Black makes up her mind… no argument can dissuade them from their decision. So he was here, on the train with Tonks glaring at him as if it had been his idea from the beginning. 'For the oddest reason I feel like Ranma. Ain't my fault, sumbuddy else did it. But I'm gonna be blamed. 'Bout typical really… my luck has been a little too good since I was brought here.' He thought to himself. Why Ted Tonks had gone along with it eluded him completely.

Then he continued his thought, 'then again. Is it really bad luck? I wouldn't put it past Hecate to be playing around with the canon characters to keep things stirred up and still manage to keep things halfway pleasant.' He doubted that there was anything actually beyond the apparently immortal woman that brought him to this realm to fix a problem that really isn't his to deal with. 'All that magical pain in the ass would have had to do would be to put the idea into Andy's head and here I am!' Sighing deeply he looked to the girl on the opposite bench, ignoring the looks of her friends and said, "Ya know, I'm just as unhappy about being ignored by your mom as you are over this. I mean, how many times can I say I think she's crazy and that you are fourteen?"

"Yeah, and you're twenty. You just keep your hands to yourself Mr. 'I don't wanna be betrothed, you're crazy Andy Tonks'. The only things that are savin' you from being hexed into next month are the fact that you're Harry's uncle and you probably know more magic than I do." Nymphadora replied.

"If I said I was sorry your mom is a loon and is making both of us do it, would it make it better?"

"No."

"Well, all I can say about the whole thing, honestly, is that 'when life hands you tomatoes. It's time to make French fry's'. Or, 'when life hands you lemons, it's too late to get a refund on the crappy car you just bought.' The mechanic is still gonna make more money than you." Garret said, in an attempt to throw her off her anger by confusing her. Hell, it had worked back in his home reality, and he'd seen it work in this one.

Rolling up the copy of the last issue of 'Teen Witch Weekly' Nymphadora reached over and smacked him in the head… hard. (THWOP!)

"I'll just sit here and be quiet then. I'll even try to stop that really annoying breathing in and out thing that seems to get on your nerves. Carry on and have a conversation with your friends. I'm not even here… I'm just a phantom fig Newton that you could swear was really there in the empty package. Not even that, a bare whisp of a laugh from an Aggie joke that, amazingly, managed to be too deep for the average Pureblood, but they still related to the Aggie. Possibly just a stray left over strand of a glimmer of a whisper of a snatch of a poorly written sit-com that was only really a badly executed nightmare that devolved into weird, complete with a laugh track. Or even…"

"Are you gonna SHUT UP?" She cut him off.

"Ya know, I'm still confused on how she managed to get me to agree to sign that parchment."

"_Will you __shut up!_" the girl ordered dangerously.

"Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm done now."

"Good!" Nymphadora said as, she rattled her magazine, ignoring her friends and the man that had become her betrothed in less than two months. She didn't know how or when, but she WAS going to pay her mum back for this. No, it wasn't because she didn't like the thought of being betrothed to the arguably strange man in her compartment. He was an attractive man after all, and he was very good with little Harry.

Nymphadora didn't really have any problem with the fact that the man seemed completely certifiable at times. Case in point the first meeting between them. She fought the smile from the memory. It had been one of the silliest things she had ever been exposed to, and it had all seemed as if it were spur of the moment. Nymphadora recognized that she was different for her age, as most girls her age were considered to be closer to twenty in emotional and mental stability.

Not her, Nymphadora wanted to stay as much of a kid as she could for as long as she could. But Garret had managed to perfect the mindset of not growing up and still managing to be a grown up when he had to. He was nice too, even after he had found out about her being a metamorphmagus. All he had done then was grunt and then tell a joke about a bear and a hunter. Her dad had laughed for six hours after. She had to think about it for awhile before she blushed and tried to purge it from her mind.

Not once since then did Garret ask her to look like anyone else. He didn't even suggest she change her hair. That had made her happy to know there was someone that was willing to accept her for her, and not what she could look like. If she had noticed her mother watching the whole thing with a smug smile and a determined gleam in her eye, Nymphadora would have had a shudder of worry.

The news had come out at the dinner her mum had invited Garret and little Harry for. Ever since that dinner, her mum would have some excuse for Nymphadora to spend time with Garret and Harry. About midway through summer, Nymphadora had broken with her tradition of waiting until the last week before the train, and began working on her homework.

Oddly enough, each time she would sit down to work on it, her mum would come by and pester her until she went next door to ask Garret if she could work on it there. This turned out to be a hidden boon; the man had some of the most incredible insights into the base schools of magic that she'd ever heard. It wasn't so much that he really said anything different from what the books and the professors said; it was more of how he presented it.

The goof had even managed to make potions interesting and fun. His take on charms was very interesting and what he seemed to know about Defense was incredible. Him being distracted when she would ask for a book to help often had him handing her a pranking book to help in her research for her essays. It confused her for a bit the first time he had done it, and then she'd be amazed to find some odd information listed in the index that would almost guarantee her a good grade on the paper.

Garret Evans was an odd man, but fun and funny. Even if it was disconcerting at times when he would suddenly get a glimmer in his eye and snort or belly laugh about something she couldn't get him so explain. Later he would disappear into his basement and all sorts of odd sounds would erupt from there, or a strange extended silence.

After that he would be back in the house, coming up from the basement rubbing his hands together and muttering something about 'Luscious won't see that coming.' Or, 'Corncob is gonna look more like the idiot he is.' And, 'Greasy…' followed by a long snickering laugh that if she had felt that it were directed at her she would worry.

Whatever Garret was doing, when he would disappear, had to be something to do with the very odd pranks that seemed to have been plaguing the upper echelon of the wizarding world, and Snape.

Nymphadora had grown used to her neighbor's peculiarities and his, frankly, bizarre and confusing manner of speech when the Evans household had been invited to another dinner just one week before the train back to Hogwarts. Dinner had progressed very well until just after dessert and before the coffee, when mum had brought up a new topic that had yet to be spoken of in the Tonks home.

A discussion of Nymphadora's future in the wizarding world, innocently trying, that isn't to say that the topic hadn't even been brought up, it had, but never in front of someone outside the small family of three. She began it as a generic topic. "So, Garret? What are your thoughts about future careers in the wizarding world? I mean, what did you do after you left your own school?"

The conversation degenerated from there as far as Tonks was concerned.

At the same time the Nymphadora was thinking about their situation, Garret was doing the same.

Remembering the 'Dinner that ruined his plans' conversation at the same time as his, to his mind, unfortunate betrothed, Garret thought back. Of course, he conveniently overlooked the fact that he actually had no plans beyond raising and protecting Harry, totally destroying Tom, and all the Death Eaters. And obliterating Dumbledore, that was one of his favorite plans. And targeting Snape whenever he took a fancy to it, which was often. Yes, Garret had many plans, but none of them included a specific situation that came about as a result of that conversation. "Well, I sort of followed my dad into the Law Enforcement thing, but only because I couldn't get an apprenticeship in toe twiddling. Did you know there is a ten-year wait for that? And they prefer for you to sign up to be an apprentice before you even get out of your knickerbockers.

So I followed dad into Law… and investing. Great thing investing, you really don't have to know that much as long as you pay the managers plenty. That means they have to get a percentage of what they rake in for you. I always suggest that you get a really greedy one. Ten percent is a whole lotta moolah if the guy is motivated to make you even more ya know? Yep, I started investing with a pair of worn out shoestrings and now I get a return of four thousand peckerings a year… No, wait, that's not right."

"You do seem to do well for yourself Garret." Andy said, smiling at the reaction from her family. She knew the young man was being difficult and strange on purpose for his own amusement. She had heard what he'd said to Poppy in what the two had believed to be unheard conversations on the Friday visits to allow the medi-witch to check on Harry's progress.

That Garret was far more lucid and knew much more than he let on was an amusement in itself to Andy. As far as she was concerned, Andy was positive that he would be perfect for her daughter, especially after the way he had treated her and behaved around her whether they were alone or in public. He was kind and did his best to think before he spoke. Of course, when he spoke what he said may have to be parsed and deciphered to get to what he meant.

It may come out as a joke, but it was pithy and appropriate after it had been translated. This meant to Andy that Garret was far more intelligent than many would grant him credit for. And very likely what he had intended. What better way to have untrustworthy individuals underestimate you than by appearing a fool?

"Yeah, I do pretty well. I gotta make sure there's plenty of hen fruit for breakfast and pretzels for lunch for Harry." Garret admitted, saying that he was happy to provide well for his nephew.

"Do you see yourself marrying anytime? What I mean to ask, is there a young woman in your life that you wish to share the responsibility of raising Harry with?" Andy circled closer, the warning signals of something unexpected about to happen being ignored by both Garret and her daughter. And, like a shark smelling blood in the water, moved in closer to the wounded fish.

Pausing in his answer before speaking, Garret narrowed his eyes at her and said, "To tell the truth I have yet to meet a woman that deserves the punishment of being married to me. I'm a bit much to take on my best days, and on my moody days I'm worse. Moody days all I wanna do is lay around the house and eat popcorn and make comments at the TV… no, I do that anyway.

No, I haven't thought about getting married. In fact it's prolly one of the things that is usually furthest from my mind. I mean I have much more important things to do. Ya know, like bringing down the Twinkling Bustard, tracking and capturing a live specimen of the Preening Silver-capped DeeT, slapping around the Deluded Oil Dripper. Sooner or later I'm going to have to start training Harry in live capture of the Toad faced Brown-noser and the Flouncing Ferret.

Prolly have to make sure he's gotten shots to prevent being corrupted by the Redheaded Macaque."

Not at all following what Garret had just said, but knowing he had meant something else with the descriptive names, Andy ignored the looks of confusion of her husband and daughter. "All those are laudable goals, and I'm sure there is a young woman that would be proud to help you in your endeavors. Shouldn't you be more interested in making certain that Harry is properly cared for? A woman in his life that he can turn to when he's hurt or to give him maternal hugs when he's lonely or sad? I know you do well with him, and he seems to be blooming and coming out of his shell already. But wouldn't it be better for him to have a mother figure to tuck him in at night and tell him stories about knights and wizards?"

Leaning back in his chair, Garret said, "I suppose it would be good for Harry. Ya know, Nymphadora does that kind of thing already. Wouldn't that be infringing on her self assigned 'big-sisterhood'? And Harry might not wanna break in a new woman to do those things. Not that he couldn't do it with the 'puppy eyes' he's been learning from Tonks, but that kind of thing should only be used as a last resort. Not even I'm totally immune to it, I can tell ya."

Garret noticed the strange look that Nymphadora had on her face when he said that and couldn't quite place what he'd said that was bad until Andy said, "I'm glad you agree that it might be unfair to my daughter. I have here an agreement that should help with that situation, as Nymphadora's mother I have already signed it. Ted signed it as the head of the Tonks family, binding the agreement through Magic, and all that needs be done is for you to sign it, sealing it into an Agreement."

Finally catching a clue as to what the woman he had spent the previous months intentionally confusing for his own entertainment, Garret looked at the parchment and read it… "Betrothal Contract? You do know that you're daughter is fourteen don't you?"

"Of course we know this. That is why we signed it for her as her parents."

"Ted, my man, buddy, dewd… feller I look to cover for me when I cheat at putt-putt. Are you outta yer mind?"

"As much as I dislike the whole idea of arrangements of this sort. I find myself having to agree with Andy. Garret, trust us, it is for the best." Ted answered.

"She's fourteen."

"Yes, she is." Andy confirmed.

"Mum, he's twenty." Nymphadora said.

Harry asked, "What's a betrothal contract?"

"She's fourteen."

"Harry, a betrothal contract is an agreement between families that, at some point in the future, they will become tied through marriage. This contract says that my daughter, Nymphadora, will one day be your Aunt by marriage, and your uncle will be my son-in-law. In some ways that would make you my grandson, mostly for legal matters, tutoring in Pureblood politics and social education."

"So Tonks would be kind of like a mum to me?"

"She's fourteen!" Garret said with some exasperation at the situation, waving his hands around trying to get the attention of Andy Tonks who had suddenly become quite persistent in answering questions for Harry.

"Yes Harry, she would. You like my daughter don't you?"

Smiling, Harry nodded enthusiastically. He had seen how his uncle would be a little less hyper when Tonks was around, and he thought she was good for his odd uncle.

"Mum! Don't I get a choice?"

"It's for the best dear." Andy replied, patting her arm, then turning back to Harry, "is that something you would like to have Harry? A mum that can give you hugs and help you learn about the magical world?"

"She's fourteen." Garret said to Ted.

"Yes, and you are twenty Garret. I'm not comfortable with the age thing myself, but Andy has explained it to me." The muggle-born wizard replied, swallowing with what Garret felt was a nervous look.

"Dad!"

"Ted! She's fourteen."

Andy could tell that neither of them were **that** intent on not agreeing with the contract. She had also seen how the two had gotten along together. From what she had deduced, Garret would suddenly have the look of inspiration, thank Nymphadora and go to his basement for a few hours. What her daughter hadn't put together yet was that this was often followed by a story in the Prophet concerning a new prank on someone of authority, or of high public interest.

The Daughter of Black would be very much surprised if the embarrassing prank on the famous and infamous wasn't a result of a comment from her daughter. Once Nymphadora discovered it, she would very likely be quite proud of the man that she could hardly spend a day without saying something about.

And the trips to the adventure parks the five of them had made as something of a family, the interaction between the three youngest of the group reminded Andy of the early marriage to Ted and raising Nymphadora.

With a knowing smile that Garret was perhaps protesting too much Andy said, "Yes, Garret, that has been established. And it is only a problem that time will take care of shortly. In less time than you can think she will be seventeen and even lovelier."

"Yeah, maybe… But she's fourteen now! There are laws about that kind of thing, ya know. I think you're crazy, and if there's anything I know, it's crazy. I practice it quite happily. Yet, even I know there are limits to crazy that is fun and acceptable, never mind that I take it a step too far at times, the social mores of this are over and beyond what I would consider funny."

"I know, Ted and I are serious about this."

Garret had almost been tripped up and said that they couldn't be Sirius, because he was dead, but that would have been tactless and hurt Andy badly. Something he really didn't want to do. 'Think Garret, how do you get them to drop this and not wreck the girls life?' looking at his nephew, he could see the glee at the prospect of having a mother figure put on the boys face. "This isn't fair to your daughter Andy… she's fourteen."

"Mum, why are you insisting on ruining my life with this… this… what you ran away from to marry dad?" the girl sputtered.

Quirking her thin and well defined eyebrow at her daughter, Andy said, "Nymphadora Cassiopeia Tonks! You know well why I ran from that, not only did I already love your father and have an engagement ring, but the monster your grandparents had decided on wouldn't have treated you any better than they treated me with the same. Imagine if Bertram Yaxley had managed to be your father. You would have been betrothed to someone three times your age, when you were an infant. For money! The situation is totally different here. I have decided and you will accept it. And there will be no running away from this.

Garret said it one more time; "She's fourteen!"

The discussion continued until it was very late in the night and Harry had fallen asleep leaning against Tonks. The girl proclaimed her own disagreement with the decision loudly, until Harry fell asleep. Then she went to venomous whispers, most of which were directed to Garret. That was when Andy knew she had won, her daughter was still unhappy with it but would grow used to it and even fall in love with the man. Garret would likely grow very comfortable with it and truly love Nymphadora in return. All it would take would be unchaperoned time together.

Finally, around four in the morning, Garret signed the agreement. He still had no idea how that had happened. All he could remember was being slowly worn down and, while not forced to sign, he had been coerced and wheedled. He could remember that he had forced some proviso's into the contract, that Nymphadora could back out of it at the time of her twentieth birthday if she really didn't want to marry him. And she could get out of it provided she found someone she could love between that time and the present. Those two additions were enough to keep Nymphadora from hexing him in his sleep… just barely. It might have helped that he set some defensive wards too, he might never know.

Of course, he found in his copy of the contract that Andy had added some conditions to the proviso's he had insisted on. The replacement would have to provide proof that he could properly take care of Nymphadora and tender a bride price to cover the loss of dowry that would be lost due to contract nullification. When he read that, Garret knew he was sunk, his carefree days as a confirmed bachelor were mostly over. All that was left was the last mile he would walk at the ceremony.

He knew Harry would be working on Cassie to make her decide it would be a great thing. Andy and Ted would cooperate on it and sooner or later Cassie would be arguing in favor of it. Garret gave it a year, tops, before she started pulling out pads to begin the total subjugation and domination of the never before tamed creature in the multi-verse, the wild G7. 'Crap!'

The next week was filled with the shopping trip that Garret felt he should cover, as the girl was now his betrothed. The trip to Gringott's had been pretty normal. Andy and Ted had opted to watch Harry for the day. That was one thing Garret was sure to do his best to avoid crowds in the wizarding world with his nephew along. The kid wouldn't understand and would be uncomfortable and probably scared. To make himself feel better about the whole unwanted betrothal thing, Garret pulled out a pile of Galleons in two bags and handed one to Nymphadora telling her to get what she wanted and he would be doing a little shopping of his own.

That was the day that Garret found the specialty shop that only carried used books. There was a section of pranking books that were out of print when Viridian was a kid. To his mind, it was as if Garret had found a treasure trove of the Lost Library of Alexandria. He treated himself by buying the store out of those books and packed them up into his fanny-pack, in an appropriately shrunken package. Then he went and wasted some time at Gambol and Japes looking around their shelves for anything useful that he couldn't make himself. He still had a war to fight.

While Garret was in Gambol and Japes, Nymphadora was making her purchases at the Apothecary, the third stop on her list. Madame Malkin's had been her first stop. She never liked shopping for clothes in the wizarding world. To her there was very little in the way of individualism displayed in the clothing choices. Dumbledore's manner of dress not withstanding, she rushed through getting her new school robes and then went off to look at a new telescope that she decided to buy. Her _betrothed_ was paying for it anyway, so she might as well get back at him.

Then she saw one of the girls from Ravenclaw in the Apothecary being escorted by Charlie Weasley. That berk had had his chance and blew it when he had asked Nymphadora to look like the girl he was with. Mary Silkfoot! Nymphadora had been livid when he'd asked her to do it, proving without doubt that the shit that Snape had been saying motivated even Weasley's. 'C'mon Tonks, just for an hour to see if I like what she looks like without the robes.' The bastard had said.

Then he screamed in pain with the stinging hex that hit him in a tender place.

Seeing the Weasel with Mary made her think about the situation with Garret. Nymphadora had to admit, it really wasn't his idea, and he was an awful lot nicer than other men were, even men that were his age and older. She saw how the information had trickled out of Hogwarts and into Hogsmeade and back to Diagon Alley. Older guys were all too interested in how she could look like almost any other girl with just a thought and push of her magic. It didn't help that most of those men weren't people that she would willingly be alone with for any length of time.

It was like no one could accept that she was a person and had her own individuality. She paid for her purchases at the Apothecary and went on to the bookstore for that year's textbooks. After awhile she found herself in Gambol and Japes.

Garret had asked her what was wrong and she said it was nothing. He suggested going for ice cream in muggle London and she suddenly felt better about the day. They waited until she was done with her school shopping before that, and then had a nice big pair of sundaes at a parlor in Kensington. She still kept him at a distance concerning the whole agreement her mum had cooked up. But she was willing to talk to him. She wouldn't let him say much, but she talked to him. 'It does take care of that problem of wondering if you'll have a date on Hogsmeade weekends Tonks.' She thought to herself. 'I wonder if he'll just take it for granted that he can show up or not at his whim? Best not let him know what I'm thinking about it. He might get complacent if he thinks I like the idea.'

Garret was dismayed at the farewell that happened on Friday August 29 of 1986. Harry, the little stinker, hugged Nymphadora and said, "Have a good term Auntie Tonks. I'll miss you."

Tonks response of, 'He called me Auntie!' pretty much torpedoed any plans Garret had of possibly getting the two of them out of the contract her mother trapped them with. 'Andy and the kid are working together! I yam doomed.' He whimpered to himself.

Looking around the compartment at the other girls taking up space with he and his reluctant fiancée, Garret took out a copy of Charms Quarterly and began to read. There were some new configurations of charm work that he was interested in. That and it kept him occupied and almost able to ignore the blistering heat from Nymphadora's eyes when she glared at him.

By the time the train would arrive at Hogsmeade, Nymphadora had grown comfortable enough, or grown tired enough of the pestering by her friends, that she explained the whole thing. Yes, Garret was her betrothed. No, she didn't like it that much because her mum was making decisions that weren't hers to make. Garret was in the doghouse because he had signed the damned contract and her dad was persona non grata because he agreed with her mum, even though she mostly forgave him when he gave her the new bracelet. "And will you please quit bugging me about the stupid betrothal? My _betrothed_ will be at Hogwarts for this weekend and then things can go back to normal. Snape can be the bastard he normally is and you nosy Kate's can start looking into other gossip."

From there the conversation between the girls went on to who their House Quidditch team captain would pick for the open spots of seeker and beater. Then the girls traded their homework around for comparison, and talked about the teachers. The other two girls in the compartment were amazed at how thorough Tonks papers were and asked if they could copy. This request was denied and they then went on to talk about the boys they were interested in. Over time Tonks managed to forget Garret was there. She did notice when he put up a privacy bubble so he couldn't hear their chatter.

Some things men are not meant to know.

Once the train had arrived at Hogsmeade, Garret stepped off onto the platform behind the girls that had been in the compartment. If he were honest with himself, he was actually looking forward to the Sorting Feast. After the Sorting, and just before the food arrived there would be a special treat for the students this year. It had taken some bribes to get the information, and a few confundus charms on Filch and Hagrid, but during the last week the castle had been empty of teaching staff. Andy telling him that as the betrothed of Nymphadora, it was his obligation to accompany her to the school on September 1 and let all know that she was under his protection.

That conversation had taken place two days after the Contract had been signed, and that was when he had found out what kind of a bastard Snape really was. The Death Eater hadn't learned that the best revenge was living well, and, as a result, vented his spleen on all and sundry. Except for those he saw as more powerful than himself, and even then he plotted against them. Dumbledore would never know what hit him when Snape finally snapped and sought revenge for every petty and minor thing that he could imagine.

Garret couldn't allow that to happen. Dumbledore was HIS target after all, and Garret was greedy and selfish when it came to his targets. Others weren't allowed to kill them before he was done humiliating them. Even if those others were targets as well.

Even though he agreed after the fact with Andy's reasoning, he had felt that there had been no need for her to manipulate and cajole him into the betrothal. 'I mean, all she hadda do was ask and I woulda protected Cassie.' He'd thought to himself, unconsciously falling into using a diminutive of her middle name instead of her preferred Tonks or her despised first name.

Not that he was all that intimidated by her threats of dire consequences and pain should he call her by her name. Honestly Garret did like the name of Nymphadora, and thought it fit her in more ways than the lewdly evident.

Garret had taken the time to spin back five days to make it possible to have the time to enchant a special charm bracelet for Nymphadora as a back to school gift. Carving and activating the runes for the protections he had enchanted the charms with would then continue to be powered by ambient magic. As long as she wore it, she would be protected from nearly all of the minor curses and hexes, and a good number of mid range ones. A few of the charms on the bracelet were protections from jinxes of all kinds with a few generic shields.

The work had been intense because even the links of the chain had been engraved with Runes. Garret knew how bullies behaved, and they would be a bit nastier when the news broke. He knew that Nymphadora wouldn't accept it from him, so he talked Ted into coming home from work with it. Unexpectedly, Garret felt a lot of warmth in his breast when the girl brightened at the gift when Ted put it on her wrist. "Dora," he told her, "I'm sorry to tell you this, but this bracelet can't come off, even by accident now. Now, before you say anything about that. I just didn't want it to be stolen or for someone to take it off of you and then hex or curse you. You're my baby girl and you're becoming a very lovely young woman. I wouldn't want for anything to happen to you when we can't be there." Ted explained.

Nymphadora had glowed with how pretty it was, and how the light danced on the crystal charms. She was also well aware of what her father meant about it being taken off of her by someone that might mean her harm. News of her being betrothed could cause all kinds of fallout, some of it violent.

Garret had also taken the time to spin back a couple of other times and set up some proactive damage control pranks. Arriving back at his linear time and properly living through the last twenty four hours of the week after all the prep work had been completed. First was finding out that most of the week that the castle would be mostly empty. The second was developing the time delayed compound transfigurations and compulsion charms for the lead up prank. Then the addition pranks scattered through out the offices of Snape and Trelawney. All of these pranks were set with compulsions triggered to activate when a diagnostic charm was used to detect any generic magic in use. This made them drop the detection and go on.

This would lead to a number of quite embarrassing situations later in the month of September, only ending the weekend before Garret would arrive for his next visit with his betrothed for a weekend.

All the work was done with one goal in mind; protect his fiancée. That task even overshadowed the task he'd been assigned by Hecate to retrieve the copy of the Marauders map and kill the snake. He'd have to make a mental note to take care of those problems soon.

Looking around the platform, Garret noticed the hairy mass of fur and beard that was the half-giant Hagrid. Deciding to not bother with the huge man, Garret followed the girls to the carriages and patted a thestral as he passed. This confused Nymphadora, because she knew the carriages were magic and had no animals pulling them. "Garret, what did you do?"

"Pet a thestral. Interesting creatures, sort of like a horse with wings if they were a bit reptilian and ate meat. If you want to see a picture of what they look like, check out a copy of 'Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them'. Or you could look into the mythology of the Valkyrie, Norse angels of death that only appear on a battle field to take the brave to Valhalla." Garret explained. "They're only visible after you've seen someone die. As pleasant as the creatures are, I really don't want you to be able to see them." After he helped Cassie and her friends into the carriage, he then climbed to the roof, without explanation as to why.

Nymphadora almost said he was being ridiculous until she noticed there was no humor being projected from him. His eyes had even dimmed a little. If it was one thing She had learned in the short time she had known her betrothed, he had a sense of humor that was difficult to hamper. If he said something like this with not a single twinkle of his eyes, he had to be telling the truth. She did promise herself to look it up later in the Library.

Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall hadn't heard of anyone employing the Rights of Betrothal at Hogwarts since before her own time as a student. And that had been a long time before she'd even been born. She knew it was still in the school charter though. It did please her that it was actually being used by one of the few Slytherin students she had liked. Andromeda Black had been a wonderful child, and her daughter was equally vivacious, if a bit put upon by her mothers old House, and Severus.

Nymphadora Tonks was perhaps the first true natural at Transfiguration it had been her pleasure to teach. The child had an intuitive grasp of it due to her gift. Not even James Potter could approach the same level, and he had been more talented than Minerva had been.

That the girl's mother had decided to enact a betrothal agreement for her daughter amazed the professor. She'd felt that Andromeda wouldn't force anything like that on her own daughter, as she had run away from her family and been disowned because of a contract for herself with a Yaxley. Then she received the letter from Nymphadora's mother; the explanation within that letter put a sad smile on her face. Minerva could have predicted something like this happening. Snape was just too young to become the Head of Slytherin when he had and just will not let go of childish slights.

'At least the girl will ha' someone to look after her interests. I dinna envy Severus this year. I expect he'll be finding himself under very close watch soon.' She thought to herself, as she watched the carriages come up from Hogsmeade. Her eyes widened at the approach of the twelfth carriage. There was a man standing on his head on the roof, his eyes facing the front and behaving as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

As the carriage approached the man rolled to his feet, climbed down and opened the door to allow the girls within to climb out. Nymphadora spoke, "Garret, this is Professor McGonagall. Professor, this is Garret Evans… my betrothed."

The man introduced as Garret Evans stuck out his hand and said, "Pleasure to meet you Perfesser McGanananan… damn, that's almost like saying bananananana. I'll try again, hello Professor Specks." He gazed into her eyes using passive Legilimency and saw that she was the only one of the staff that knew of the betrothal and his name.

Sighing with some small amount of annoyance, Minerva shook the young man's hand and replied. "My name is McGonagall, it isn't that hard to say Mr. Evans. I would say it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid I haven't made up my mind yet. Please have Miss Tonks show you to the Great Hall so we may begin the sorting on time."

The older woman thinned her lips at the prospect of a year of visits with the man she'd just met. She only hoped that she wouldn't be the target of his humor too often. There is a certain decorum that should be maintained after all. She didn't catch the casting of a wandless confundus charm from the young man. She would remember his name but would overlook mentioning it to any of the other professors. Albus should have kept up with the letters being sent to him and his Deputy.

Entering the Great Hall behind Nymphadora, Garret looked around and hid his grin as best he could. After helping the girl to her seat, he sat down beside her, to her right, so that he might have a better view of the Head Table. As he had remembered, the staff sat with Snape to the right of Dumbledore, followed by Flitwicke then Kettleburn, The current Arithmancy teacher and Babbling, Burbage and Hooch. To the left of the Spouter of Paltry Palliatives and the Greater Good, did Sprout, Trelawney, Sinistra and Pomfrey, Pince and the current Defense Professor follow an empty chair.

That was the Head Table, Two chairs at the ends were for the Keeper of the Grounds and Keys, and the other for the Caretaker. Strangely, none of the teachers took any additional notice of the fact that an adult was seated with the student body as the Hall filled. Garret wasn't sure if he liked the fact that he was being ignored or not. He knew that the Sorting Feast Prank would have him singled out by the humorless bastard with greasy hair.

Shortly, the Great Hall had filled with the second year through seventh year students and they commenced to wait, conversation still going on between them all. Garret fielding a question or two while they waited for the ickle firsties to arrive. Catching some motion near the Head Table, Garret looked to see the Hat. Smiling inwardly he projected a probe of Legilimency to the artifact and knocked.

"_Who is it?" The hat asked._

"_A forced traveler into this realm of existence and almost all knowing person of your world here. Sad to say." Garret sent back._

"_And why are you here?"_

"_It seems I have been given a mission to correct the wrongs brought about by a number of manipulators and hand out punishment as I see fit. My name is Garret Evans and I am Harry Potter's uncle."_

"_Who has given this mission to you then?"_

"_Hecate… woman snatched me from my world without so much as a howdy, and dropped me into this body. But that is neither here nor there. I had an unfortunate situation occur and found myself betrothed to Nymphadora Tonks. That helps with part of my mission, but it wasn't something I was looking to have happen. I was intending to raise my nephew and have fun at the expense of the rest of the British wizarding world. Now I find I have to become a 'respectable wizard'. Bbbrrrrr, the idea gives me the chills."_

"_Pleasure to meet you young man. You needn't worry, Godric made me to be able to sort the new inflow and to keep their secrets. I am incapable of passing any knowledge on to anyone. And, as there is no one that knows we are conversing, this too will be kept in confidence." The hat greeted him, "you may call me…"_

"_Floppy?" Garret asked, interrupting the Hat._

"_I suppose it is better than some of the other names I've been called in the past. Some first years have been raised to a ridiculous level of religious orthodoxy. I've been called 'Devil Hat', possessed creation of evil and 'Smelly old rag'._

"_Now that's just rude!" Garret said when he heard this._

"_They are children and learn differently. It is surprising how many of them found themselves in Ravenclaw. They were intelligent, merely intolerant of the unusual. Unfortunately, Godric and the others didn't think to provide me with a name." The hat explained._

"_I'm sure if you think about it, you could come up with a name you like though. I wouldn't be surprised if the old Twinkler called you something like Terence of Allistor."_

"_How did you know?"_

"_He strikes me as the type. Hey, listen, this year another Weasley comes in as a firstie. Could you do me a favor and…" _

"_I cannot put anyone into a House they would not fit within. From your memories of this Percy, he would fit into Slytherin in his later years. But as a first year he must go where I see he belongs now."_

"_No, I wasn't going to ask that. I was going to ask that you…"_

The Hat began laughing for no reason, drawing the attention of the entire Great Hall. Dumbledore was mildly confused at this, Terence had never done anything of the kind before. The laughter of the hat settled down just as Minerva opened the door and led the group of first years for 1986 in.

As normal the firsties were looking around in awe, some with huge fear filled eyes, others with a look of worry, but determination. And then there was Percy. That Weasley looked like he was about to pee his pants and faint. Evidently the tale of 'having to fight a Troll' was a Weasley staple.

When McGonagall set up the stool in front of the Head Table with the Hat on it, the new enrollees visibly relaxed. Garret hid his smirk as best he could. Ignoring the firsties as they were sorted to the best of his ability, making sure to applaud after each sorting, unless they went into Slytherin. Then he would give the kid a sad smile and shake his head.

This did nothing for the looks of terror on some of the new kids, especially the redheaded boys. Garret was almost holding his breath for Percy to be sorted, he was so excited at the prospect of the absolute horror that would erupt on the boys face.

Finally the name Weasley, Percival came and the last boy of the year walked up to the stool, with a confident air. The boy knew he would go to Gryffindor, no Weasley had been sorted to any other house in centuries. As he Percy took his seat on the stool, Garret sent a probe to eavesdrop. The hat allowed the intrusion as long as he didn't interfere with the sorting and try to force a different House. That wasn't why he wanted to hear.

Garret wanted to hear because just the look on Percy's face wouldn't be enough. The set up had been a spur of the moment thing, and he wanted to get the whole experience. Reaction and stutter to fearful look. The hat settled over the ears of Percy, the eventual Toadying Prig, and the hat spoke. _"Hmmm, interesting. You would do well in Hufflepuff or Slytherin."_

"No, I want Gryffindor."

"_Boy, it doesn't matter what you want. What matters is what I see in your personality. You do have courage of your convictions though. A stickler for the Rules and a mama's boy, you're certainly not of the quality required for Ravenclaw. It doesn't appear that you wish to learn for the sake of learning._

_You will work for your goals, if you can decide what your goals are. While you have a certain arrogance, you wouldn't be assertive enough to pursue your ambitions. No, my first assessment of Slytherin is wrong, you wouldn't fit well there. It's probably for the best, the Head of Slytherin has appetites for redheaded boys, putting you in there might damage you far more than allowing you to go to…_ Gryffindor!"

Looking confused when the hat shouted his House, Percy, ever the Weasley asked, "What did you mean the Head of Slytherin has appetites for redheaded boys?" Loudly enough for the Head Table to hear it, and the students at the end nearest him.

"Headmaster," Snape asked of Dumbledore, "what is that damnable hat saying about me to the first years?"

"Merely that they should be careful to not turn their back to you and to take care not to bend over Severus. I'm sure it's only a misunderstanding." Twinkler replied as he stood to give his customary 'few words' to start the feast. Approaching the lectern, Dumbledore grasped the edges and spoke.

"Welcome one an all, as I am sure you are all hungry. I shall limit my statements until after we eat. Tuck in." The long bearded fossil intoned then returned to his seat.

The feast was progressing well, Albus and Severus had spoken briefly about the unknown person who had sat down with the Hufflepuffs, not having been informed of his arrival by either Pomona or Minerva. Eating lightly so they might have the opportunity to speak with him before he left after dinner. They openly approached the table where Albus discerned that the young man was seated beside Nymphadora Tonks.

As they stepped to his side, Snape spoke, "Who are you?"

Garret heard the dulcet tones of the most greasy bastard and turned to see the sneer plastered to the face of one of the most implacable of the perpetually perturbed. Seeing the opportunity to slap them around with a routine he was sure the two wizards wouldn't be aware of he answered with a polite and gentle voice, "I've told you once."

"No, you haven't." The sneering and oily voice remarked.

"I most certainly have."

"When?"

"Just now."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"I say you did not!"

"I'm telling you I did."

Nymphadora couldn't believe her ears. The man her mother had betrothed her to was intentionally baiting the Greasy Bastard with a Python skit. She remembered watching it with her father a few years before. It had to be one of the funniest things she'd ever seen. And now it was happening right in front of her: and her husband to be was doing Cleese! Tonks wasn't positive, but she just might forgive him for everything her mother was putting them through now.

"NO you did not!" the potioneer exclaimed in response to the obtuse individual in front of him.

"I can promise you I did." Garret's calm response returned.

Nymphadora couldn't hold it, so she spoke up, "Excuse me, Professor, but is this the five minute argument or is it the full half hour?"

Dumbledore couldn't believe this, "I beg your pardon Nymphadora?"

The girl turned to the Headmaster and answered, overlooking that the hairy bastard had used her most despised name AGAIN, "It's just that the full half hour argument is going to cost five Galleons sir."

At that Garret looked to her and smiled the happiest smile she'd seen from him to date, one that welcomed her and wasn't maniacal when he had disappeared into his basement. It was one that said much more, it was happy and warm and fun filled and said thank you more than anything she'd ever seen. Then he said the words that made her heart beat a lot faster, "Nymphadora, it's that kind of thing that can make me fall in love with you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

**Tae Kwon Leap**

Minerva, as she walked along, looked to the young man that had managed to entertain the majority of the school and make Albus and Severus look like fools with little effort. She was amazed that young Miss Tonks had even helped. That she had found the tag team effort to be amusing; was neither here nor there. It had bothered her that Albus had felt the need to interrogate the young man during dinner. That this Garret Evans had risen to the task and managed to come out of the encounter with the Headmaster and Severus looking the worst, showed that the youth was quite smart and not to be taken lightly.

And the way he interacted with the younger students that were away from their homes and families for the first time had impressed her. Even more was the way that he behaved with Miss Tonks. He certainly seemed to keep her smiling, even if the girl tended to glare at him almost as often. Minerva took that to mean that Andromeda had set up the Betrothal with little cooperation from either of them. Mr. Evans seemed to want to not anger Miss Tonks if he could avoid it. The Scots woman could see that Andy Tonks had chosen well for her daughter. If the two managed to make it through a month as a couple, they'd be together for life.

Minerva found herself smiling at the thought. She'll have to talk with Pomona about odds and place her bet now.

After dinner, and the Headmaster had made his remarks for the opening of term and sent the students to bed, she had taken up her duty to escort the young man to the guest quarters near the Hufflepuff common room. Minerva allowed him to take his time and ask questions; which way was the shortest route to the nearest exit in case of emergency? Is there another route to the Great Hall? How many classrooms are there on a given floor? Is there any truth to the rumor that Filch has a mop fetish? What if the inflatable slide doesn't? Is it true that stewed rhubarb tastes much more like applesauce that pickled raisins do?

The short conversations he was delighted to have with the portraits were almost as amusing as the tear down of Snape at dinner. Leading him to the portrait guardian of the guest quarters, Minerva spoke, "the password is 'integrity'. I must ask that if you change it, as you'll be visiting often, to let me know what it is in case I need to get you. I also must ask that you not have Miss Tonks visit you without a chaperone. We have certain proprieties we have to enforce at Hogwarts."

Garret smiled at her warmly as he turned, showing the printed message on his shirt, 'I never get distra… (oooooooooo… shiny!)', and said. "Professor, what kind of boy do you think I am?"

Blinking at the question Minerva answered, "Mr. Evans, I'm sorry if I alluded to something inappropriate!"

"Relax Professor McGonagall. I'm teasing; Andy set the two of us up mostly to protect Cassie from your grease ball. I have no intention of doing anything that would be immoral, unethical or fattening… alright, maybe fattening, only because low fat ice cream tastes so much like sweat socks. If anything, I think my nephew, Andy and Ted need to be put in the time out corner."

"And why is that Mr. Evans?"

"Look, we're never gonna be friends if ya keep calling me 'Mr. Evans'. My name is Garret, and I would like to be friends with you Professor Specks."

"Why do you call me that?" Minerva's lips taking on a persimmonous cast.

"It may not be generally checked, but your animagus is a tabby with distinct markings around your eyes that look like your square framed glasses. I even wore this tee shirt today to let you know I share the fascination with distractions… probably a little more than I should."

"True, I had to register when I was twenty five, after I learned the technique. So, what is your animagus young man?"

Looking as if he were having a hard time controlling a snort, Garret answered, "I don't have one. And I haven't looked; never had the desire to find it. I imagine it would be something bizarre and off the wall if I was to try to find it. Probably something like a budgie or a fwooper, possibly a Lorax."

"Would you like training for it? I do have the credentials to pass on my knowledge of the transformation?" Minerva asked, in the hopes of gaining a new pupil to pass the skill to. Ignoring the oddness of the possibility of a non-existent creature as a form.

Garret looked pensive for a moment, and then answered, "I'll have to think about it. I really don't have that much time to devote to a long-term project like that. I'm raising my nephew, and he takes up a lot of my free time. What with teaching him to read, how to have fun and having him chase me up trees, barking and foaming at the mouth."

"Is he magical?"

"I would think so."

Minerva was intrigued, "Is he being tutored in his magic yet? I may be able to set aside a weekend a month, possibly more."

Garret smiled brightly, "No, he hasn't gotten any tutors yet. He's just now only seven, I don't want to risk damaging his core, but, I don't think that being taught theory and wand movement would be harmful to him."

"I wouldn't worry about his core being damaged, it's perfectly natural to work magic when a child has the ability; and getting to him early would save him from bad habits as well." Looking thoughtful, Minerva asked, "you say he's your nephew. What happened to his parents, if I might ask?"

"They died… end of the last war." Garret explained, with a single sentence.

"Who were they?" she asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"The woman that would have been my favorite sister, and definitely my favorite brother-in-law. Taken before their time because of a problem student you were in school with. And because Albus Dumbledore didn't do what was right when he should have, rather than what was easy. He took the less stressful and easy path of watching." Garret said with a sad smile.

This shocked Minerva. Who had she gone to school with that could have been part of that madness? And why would it be the fault of the Headmaster? "Surely, you can't be blaming the last war on the Headmaster."

The sad smile on his face became happier when he said, "Well, Professor. What happens when good men do nothing?"

"Why don't you enlighten me."

"When good men do nothing, the price of Jell-O becomes untenable, meerkats become involved with warthogs and coyote's catch road runners, it then falls to the wild hare to make things right. It becomes a sad state of affairs when a problem can be seen and still the duck falls for the reversal. And then the confusing behavior of Hillbillies when they get involved in a square dance while a rabbit dresses in drag. And yet, a double barreled shotgun can fire multiple rounds without reloading… it's…peculiar." He then entered the portal to the guest quarters and the portrait closed. Minerva was left with the feeling that the lucid conversation had been used to show a more serious person than she would have thought. That he had left with a rather cryptic and strange set of statements. She was certain he had meant something else with what he had uttered, but it was couched in so much double speak she may never decipher it.

Minerva made note to pass on the conversation to the Headmaster and slowly walked to her own quarters, attempting to puzzle out the meaning of what Garret Evans had just said, the thoughtful expression never leaving her face.

The next morning, very early, Severus woke in a bad mood. All night he'd had an itch that would not subside on his chest. It had kept him from sleeping as soundly as he would like, and no matter what he tried; the itch wouldn't go away. He also wasn't very happy with that person that had been sitting at the Hufflepuff table, making Severus look like a fool.

The freak whore would pay for it with her first potion class of the term. He smiled at the retribution he would extract. There would be nothing the man could do either, regardless of that Betrothal; Severus had full control of what happened in his classroom. He would make the little bint pay for helping the fool. The Greasy Git continued his plans of petty revenge while he dressed for his early morning patrol of the Halls. He stopped in mid sneer over his plans due to the increase in the itchiness on his chest and rushed to the mirror in his bath. Tattooed on his chest was a slogan, 'time for the 20,000 mile oil change? Use Fram oil filters.'

The twitch over his left eye had returned.

The scream of rage that followed rattled the windows in the Headmasters rooms and terrified the majority of the student body. Garret reached for a non-existent snooze button and went back to sleep.

Breakfast in the Great Hall that Saturday had barely begun for Nymphadora Tonks, and she was still a bit sleepy. Her housemates had kept her up late the previous night with gossipy questions regarding her betrothal. The majority of her housemates had behaved as if the situation was incredibly romantic and were actually jealous. Especially Marjory Pilker, the bint had actually offered her money to get to spend time with HER Garret. That was when Nymphadora noticed that the offer made her suddenly felt a jealous urge to strangle the pretty blond, she wondered about why. It wasn't like she had asked her mum to set up a Betrothal for her. Then she thought about how Garret might react to the offer.

She decided that Marjory wouldn't be able to keep up with him verbally, and Tonks didn't think the man would even give the bubblehead a second of thought. He'd stay with her, Tonks, mostly because he seemed to have a lot of fun with the playful banter she could put up. That made her smile over the preposterous idea that the 17-year-old would have any chance with HER betrothed.

The other girls had also been impressed with the interaction of the two at dinner when they had verbally slapped the Git around, and left the Headmaster speechless.

Tonks was happier that morning since the previous evening of spoiling the 'good cop bad cop' attempt on Garret by the Headmaster and the Potions Professor. The look of dawning horror that had erupted on Snapes face was priceless when he had discovered that not only was he being made a fool of; but that he had actually, unknowingly, cooperated with it. She was even giggling with the girls of 'Puff at some of the other things they had been talking about the evening before. Of course she was blushing at some of the stories the girls told of their summer holiday.

From the gossip, Marjorie really was a bint. The girl had been seen with no less then nine different boys over the holiday, three of them in one day. This made Tonks a lot happier with what her mother had done regarding that stupid betrothal. At least she didn't have to worry about having a date available when she went out. And she wouldn't have to make promises she wouldn't feel comfortable keeping. But now at Hogwarts, she and Garret were out of direct control of her mother.

Tonks was a lot more comfortable with the arrangement now that her mother wasn't able to enforce 'alone time' with her betrothed. Not that the girl didn't like the man, she did; but his strange conversational style and sense of humor could become a little much to deal with, even for her. Though he did tend to tone it down when it was just she and Harry around. Tonks thought he was quite smart, reasonably good looking, and he certainly was nice to her; but the fascination he had for all things silly, or the stray bit of lint or shiny foil, took some getting used to. He'd spent an entire day playing with a feather he had found once.

Over the summer, every day had been something different with him. And it didn't look to be changing anytime soon. And this day was to be no different than what she had grown to expect. She found herself wondering if this was what it was like having a hyperactive child.

Tonks had just sat down at the 'Puff table when her betrothed walked in. At his entry the entire Hall became silent, actually, it was more of a rolling wave of silence when he walked in, beginning at the doors and moving slowly to the other end. It also began at the Head Table where conversation had stopped the moment he became visible. The two waves of silence rolled toward each other, gathering speed until they crashed into one another leaving an utter silence that fell over the Hall was near deafening.

He had neon plaid pajamas on, with a dressing gown of electric lime green, and the most peculiar pair of –things- on his feet. That the toes of these things moved as if they were independent of each other amazed all who witnessed it. What the things looked like was a giant pair of bear feet. But that wasn't all, he managed to get even more attention with the odd way in which his legs moved, a strange rolling gait with a bizarre twisting of his knees, his upper body remaining normal in it's motion, moving independently from his lower half. When he stepped up to the table and took a seat opposite of Tonks, a few muggle-born were broken out of their stupor of seeing his bizarre entry and into laughter.

That his expression hadn't changed from the mildly serious one of unconcern, with the only alteration being a brighter smile from discovering the morning menu set out on the table. As he gathered the food for his plate, he looked across to his blushing fiancée with a grin that told her that he knew exactly what he was doing, and just didn't care about ruffling peoples feathers. Oddly, this calmed her first response to his appearance. This worried her.

"G'mornin' Garret. Sleep well?" was all she said.

"Yes, I did actually. I have a little problem with the cold stone floors on my bear feet though, but I'll get over it. Strangest thing, this morning my alarm was set for around 03:30 for some reason. I turned it off and went back to sleep. Can't imagine why I would set it for so early on a weekend. But who knows what I was thinking?" Garret answered.

"Don't you know?"

"Why ever would I know what I'm thinking? Do I look like a mind reader? I have it on good authority that I am a Master Occlumense, so it should be utterly impossible for me to know what I'm thinking." His smile becoming more of the 'go with it' invitation than the more secretive 'I'm tweaking you for my amusement' that he normally wore.

How Tonks had found herself becoming able to read the different meanings in his smiles amazed her, had brought her worry to near fear. 'COR! Whatever he has is contagious! Mum! I am so gonna get you for this!' What had amazed her even more was that she actually understood what he had just said. That realization nearly had her whimper in despair. She opted to go along, because she knew she was safe from him, though no one else was "Have you ever thought about possibly getting a translator for yourself Garret? That way you might understand your own motivations better."

The rest of the Hall seemed to be straining to hear what the two were saying in the conversational tone that they had, although the sound of their conversation carried through the whole room. Most thought that Tonks was a bit off, but to have someone there that made even Xenophilious Lovegood seem normal with his news articles, was a bit frightening. "Nope, hadn't thought of it yet. But it might not be a bad idea. Say, do you know where I might find somebody fluent in triple entendre, reverse innuendo and sextuple speak?"

"Can't say that I do. I imagine you could probably put an ad in the Quibbler or something."

Looking thoughtful for a moment, Garret opened his mouth to add to what Nymphadora had just said when a hand landed on his shoulder. Looking across the table at the girl that would someday be his wife, no matter how much he fought it, he asked, "That's somebody that has a poor sense of personal hygiene, and a displacement disorder regarding arrogance and deluded self importance isn't it?"

Obtaining a confused expression for a moment trying to determine what he'd just said, Tonks shook her head and said, "No, it's Professor Dumbledore. Professor Snape is at the Head table still."

"Oh good, it's just too early in the day for another round of 'tease the twit'. But then again…"

"Good morning." The pleasant grandfatherly tone came from over his shoulder.

"It was. But then the playful banter with my betrothed, stack of fritters, and huge glass of pumpkin juice was interrupted by a monosodium glutamate addict."

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore asked, followed by a not so gentle fluttering of his robes by an expulsion of rather loud gas that was clearly heard by all present. Another gift of long-term flatulence through an enchanted candy bowl. Garret had no idea how long that one would last, the runes imbue the jinx into random candies. Each jinx is intended to last a minimum of two weeks… and the way Fondles goes through lemon drops…

"Nice of you to ask ahead of time." Garret said, while coughing and waving his wand to dispel the smell, "But I would like to have my breakfast and try and talk my betrothed into something." That particular phrasing brought an inhaled sound of shocked disbelief that managed to make an already silent Great Hall, even quieter.

Her eyes widening at that statement, Tonks stammered, "W-w-w-wha"

"Yeah, ya see, I was thinking that it might be really, really nice of you to include all the firsties when you give me that tour of the school. That way I don't have to worry about my virtue getting compromised while being alone with you; and Professor McGonanananana…. Dammit, still can't do it right… Perfesser Specks won't think anything is going on." The blush on her face, clearly giving Garret a great deal of entertainment.

'Dammit!' Tonks thought, 'he set me up again. How does he do it?' Blinking at his request and her own naughty thoughts that he'd brought to mind, fighting her blush she said, "S-s-s-sure. We can do that! Dunno why we don't do it as a normal thing every year anyway?"

Coughing to gain their attention, Dumbledore spoke, "I would rather you came to my office so that we may speak young man. Before any 'tours' are conducted. I am the Headmaster of the school and I should like to know as to why I wasn't informed of your arrival." Then looking a little secretive, he continued. "I find I am rather fond of licorice wands of late."

Garret, while quirking his eyebrow at Tonks, replied to the Headmaster, "SIR! I would think it would behoove you to keep your deviant behavior to yourself! How could you stand there and make such a terrible admission in front of first years?"

Taking a breath and turning back to the girl he had become betrothed to, Garret said, "now, I can find my way back here, so ya wanna start the tour from the Entry Hall and drag us hither and yon? Be sure to have the kiddies bring parchment and scribble sticks to take notes and draw maps, mebbe a blanket and pillow for a nap when we get worn out." He then wrapped a pancake around a fried egg and several strips of bacon then made his way out of the Great Hall with an entirely different manner of walking than he had entered with.

Tonks was near tears in mirth at what he had done to Dumbledore; McGonagall and most of the rest of the staff were as well. Snape, well, that man doesn't have a sense of humor to be located anywhere in his body. The Headmaster was struck speechless again at the behavior of the young man, and most of the Hall was gasping trying to keep the laughter in check.

It just doesn't do to laugh at the most powerful wizard in the world. It has a tendency to wreck his self-image.

"But, they are a form of sweet." Albus tried to explain, too late to do any good. The held in laughter rolled free at that moment.

Tonks was surprised when Garret returned. He was wearing another tee shirt with a compass printed on it and arrows pointing every which-way; the legend 'I never get lost, only misplaced. This IS Las Angeles isn't it?' and she led him and the firsties on the tour. She had been surprised that he'd actually made the suggestion to lead the kids around to learn the castle. She found herself wishing someone had done it for her year. The man she would marry even managed to keep the kids together and attentive to her explanations by asking surprisingly interesting questions that the kids duly took notes of the answers.

The most mundane parts of the tour were livened by the man and his silliness. It was as if he treated everything as a joke just for his benefit that he allowed others to join in on. The trick step was covered with asking about the possibility of a dragon named Spot sleeping there and if a guy named Herman fed him properly. The greenhouses were made more interesting when he seemed disappointed that there were no plants that he called 'African Stranglers'. He tossed a bag of meatballs to one of the carnivorous plants with a small miffed expression.

One of the more strange occurrences had been when the stairs had been moved out of the path that they needed to take and Garret just went over to a wall and asked for the stairs to be brought back to them to use. This made her think that he was an Heir. When she asked about it he answered.

"Nah, ain't an Heir of the Founders… well maybe one, but it's really silly and anybuddy can ask the castle to help. She just likes to play, that's why the stairs move around all the time. When you ask nicely, she'll do things for you. Already asked her really nicely to take care of a problem for me. I'm not sure, but it might happen this week after I go home. I do know it'll be fun."

He didn't say what he had asked the castle to do, only snicker and say it was a surprise. Overall, the tour for the firsties had been a smash, all the kids had fairly accurate maps drawn by an auto-quill that Garret had brought. At the end of the tour he copied his own map to the blank parchment that all the kids had brought along at his suggestion. This didn't prevent the firsties from making their own notes about what they had been told.

Each of them had made very clear notes about asking Hogwarts for help when they were lost later in the year, and getting to classes on time. They wrote nearly everything that Tonks had said too. This made her feel very good and proud of herself, putting a new idea for her future into her head.

Tonks had so much fun performing as the tour guide that she hadn't realised what time it was. They had lunch mid-way through the tour, eating food brought to them by the house elves that Garret had asked the castle to call for him. Lunch wasn't a grand feast like the Great Hall would have seen, but it was enjoyable with finger foods the kids had fun eating, fried chicken, sandwiches and vegetables. All of it washed down with milk or pumpkin juice.

One of the muggle-born that didn't like the flavor of the juice had asked why wizards drink it. That was something that Tonks had never heard the reason for herself, and was surprised that Garret actually knew the answer. "Well… it's for the same reason you eat carrots and spinach or other leafy greens. With the carrots, you get vitamin A, which is good for your eyes. With the spinach and other leafy greens you get iron and zinc and other vitamins and minerals. Fruits all carry specialized vitamins. With pumpkin juice you get another building block that you need as a wizard, in this case it's what a muggle scientist would call an amino acid. It isn't a vitamin or mineral that can be obtained artificially through muggle tablets. It can only be found naturally in pumpkins. When a pumpkin is juiced and condensed, the amino acid is concentrated.

Now, this amino acid is what helps a wizard's magical core grow and get stronger when you are young. It's also why it isn't provided to wizards younger than ten years old. Having it too early can be damaging to the young wizard's developing core, forcing it to stabilize too early, this slows a young wizards core growth. At ten years the core has stabilized enough to be nourished to proper growth with the pumpkin juice.

You don't really need any more than a couple of glasses a day, but it won't hurt you to have more if you like it. Even if you don't like it, you should drink at least one glass daily for proper health of your core. I say it won't hurt to have more because it won't, it won't cause your core to grow larger than it would have with less. And it won't grow faster; it only helps to keep it healthy and growing steadily. Any extra is passed through just like too much vitamin B.

To get your core to get bigger takes time and effort, which is why you come to a school to learn how to use your magic. Using it also exercises it like your muscles that get bigger and stronger with regular use. Your wanded classes are to give your core the proper controlled environment for supervised exercises. That's sort of like going to a gymnasium and having instructors there to watch over and help you so you don't get hurt by trying to do too much before you are ready with the weights and machines. It works the same way with magic, the teachers are there to keep you from hurting yourself by doing things you aren't ready for.

And just like heavy weights are easier to lift with muscles given enough iron from eating high iron foods like spinach, pumpkin juice provides what you need to help your magical core get stronger. Does that help you understand why you should drink it?"

All the kids had stopped talking when he began to speak so lucidly, not once did he utter a single silly phrase or make a joke all through the answer he'd given the little girl. In fact all the kids, save a few that would forever be behind the rest in their studies, took notes about what he'd just said. Tonks could see the gleam in the eye of a few that showed they had already decided on their careers at that point, be it teacher or Healer, her fiancé had stirred their imagination with a truthful and complete answer that they had never heard before.

Tonks had never heard it either, and she had asked the reasons why she had to drink something that left such a lingering taste in her mouth of her mother. All she'd ever been told was 'because it's good for you', the standard reply when the parent knows it's true but doesn't know why.

Looking at the awe in his betrothed and the eyes of the kids made Garret feel quite good about himself. He had actually been able to impart knowledge as he had done in his previous life and world to people that really wanted to know. Not that he had done it that often back home, being a trucker left so little time to actually pursue the long held desire of being an educator. Seeing that he had all their attention he added. "It was a study performed by Algernon Croaker of the English Department of Mysteries and Philip Kinse; an American muggle-born that studied to become a muggle scientist called a nutritionist. They collaborated on a study and wrote the report in 1984. There's an article on it in 'Modern Wizard'. I'll get a few dozen copies sent up for your charms class. I think Professor Flitwicke is most likely the person that would be using it in class."

From there the rest of the day was still fun, and Garret would still get the kids to giggle with some random silliness. But they all, for the most part, remained thoughtful about what he'd said about such an everyday item like pumpkin juice. It was still a couple of hours before dinner when they all went their separate ways. Tonks went to her dorm to freshen up and relax for a bit.

Saturday's dinner in the Great Hall was almost as ridiculous as the previous evening's. Only this time Garret was already there when everyone arrived. He was lying in the middle of the Hall, and it looked as if he were sound asleep. Gradually the students trickled in and gently made their way around his prone form. Most assumed that it would be the wiser course to NOT tickle the sleeping dragon, just as the school motto suggested. Of course, this didn't mean that two of the staff were nearly as wise in their choice.

The students had all decided that the entertainment aspect of what he was going to do to Snape or Dumbledore was far too good to bother him before those two arrived. Tonks, who had been so surprised by his behavior with the littles during the tour, only felt embarrassed when she walked in from returning to her dorm to look at the notices for the next week posted on the bulletin board there. Arriving at the Great Hall and discovering the man she was supposed to be marrying in a few years lying on the floor as if it were a huge comfy feather bed did nothing for her composure.

It certainly didn't help her out when Snape and the Headmaster stepped to his side and nudged him with their toes. Garret, rolled over to his back, snorted and opened his eyes, gasping as if he'd just been waked from a nightmare, "so it was a dream, only a dream! But it wasn't like any dream I'd ever had before!" he gasped out, and swallowed nervously.

Dumbledore, blinking in confusion at the strange young man at his feet asked, "What was a dream young man?"

Garret answered, while pointing to a few different people, "It was so strange. You were there, and you were there," pointing to the Headmaster then Snape, "And her," pointing to Tonks." So much happened, and all of was frightening. I had to take a long trip to find a way, but I kept telling everyone I met that I wanted to go home. I just wanted to go home."

Tonks, knowing she would regret it said, as she settled at his side on her knees to help him sit up, "It's okay now Garret. You're home and it's all good, whatever was so frightening is over now, it was only a dream. Just a bad dream, you're safe now."

'Why do I let him do this?' she though to herself, 'it must be for the glazed looks of confusion on Dumbledore's face. That almost makes it worth it."

Looking into her eyes and confirming he was playing again, the twinkle in his eyes telegraphing it so easily that a novice could read it. Strangely it still left out Snape and Dumledore, Garret said, "The most terrible thing about it was the damned gingham dress and those tight ruby slippers. And Toto wouldn't stop that damned barking at the blue flying monkeys. The Tin-man kept whining about needing more oil," he glared at Snape when he said this, "and the Scarecrow was truly a straw man." Looking at the Headmaster with disappointment as he finished. "I really don't feel like talking about the cowardly lion, I might get heartburn."

Sighing to herself over the clear verbal slapping that she'd just witnessed, Tonks stood and helped her fiancé to his feet. Garret, once he was completely upright, and on his feet, was crowded by Snape who asked, "Why were you sleeping on the floor you buffoon?" with a sneer clearly dripping from his voice and face.

Garret, evidently fighting the smirk he trying to escape his lips, glanced at Tonks only long enough to wink, replied, "I wasn't sleeping on the floor…I was only leaning on it."

Then he turned and sat down at the 'Puff table and began loading his plate and the plate beside him for Tonks. He held his hand up to the girl and said, "Let me help you to your seat Glinda."

Dumbledore was truly perplexed by the man that had come to his school. At no time had he done anything that could be considered poor behavior, odd behavior but not threatening. Nor had he actively perpetrated any sort of confrontation with any of the instructors on staff. In fact, the only people that had been given any kind of trouble were himself and his good friend Severus. In each case, this man, Evans, had pointedly disarmed and thoroughly reduced the respect of the entire school shown to himself and Severus.

And in each case, Albus had to admit that the incidents had been instigated by their own actions. The last time he had to physically restrain Severus from attacking the man from behind. He knew of the type of curse that Severus would have used, for he was sorely tempted to do so himself.

The number of students that had some level of appreciation for what was done truly confused Albus. Never had he encountered anyone that could say so many things with so few sentences. The skill involved and required to couch so many levels of meaning in ways that came out as humorous to those that understood amazed him. Yet, he was almost certain the young man was saying things that only he understood fully.

The sheer number of muggle-born that appreciated the humor of the man was quite disconcerting. The way Gryffindor House had seemed to lose complete respect for Severus in less than three days was frightening. And the way that the entire student body seemed to have lost respect for himself was equally frightful. Albus didn't like the way people had laughed at him. It had made him feel as if he were especially slow, something like the dim cousin everyone tolerates but doesn't have the heart to send away to an institution.

The man was quite frustrating to deal with. All Albus wanted to do was to speak with him and find out more of him. 'Perhaps I should have Alastor look into him when he returns with Harry Potter.' He decided. The old wizard was fairly certain that he would gain little from the young man, even confronting him in his own castle as he had been attempting to. And those attempts had yet to bare any fruit.

"One last attempt to garner knowledge from him as well as perhaps his trust." He spoke aloud as he walked along the corridor toward the guest chambers Minerva had assigned the youth. Arriving at the portrait of the Golden Harpist, who, for some reason Albus couldn't fathom, now wore a muggle trenchcoat, a beaten top hat, excessively worn shoes and tatty clothes. The face of the Harpist held a beatific and vacuous grin that was most confusing. It bothered Albus that the Harpist didn't speak as he had before. In fact the harpist now behaved as if he were a mute.

Knocking gently on the frame, the Headmaster waited for the young man to answer. It was quite late and all the students were abed. Curfew had struck with the staff all tucked away until early morn. And he knew this would likely be his last opportunity to have a conversation with this Garret Evans person. Albus was getting rather tired of being put off.

A voice came from the other side of the portrait, "Who eez eet?"

" 'tis I, Albus Dumbledore, and I would speak with you if I may." He answered the voice, some steel tempering his own. This was his castle and School Dammit! And he would not have such a person giving him such disrespect and ignoring him so.

"Sorry, you're not on the list."

"List? What list?" Albus blinked with confusion. He found himself doing that more lately and did not like it. Being confused damaged his persona of all knowing that had been so carefully crafted over the decades.

"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you. In order to know about what the list is. You must be on the list, and if you are on the list then you already know, thereby negating the need to ask about the list. If you want to be placed on the list, you first have to apply for a license to be provisionally placed on the list at the nearest Center For the List."

"And where might I find this Center?"

The voice returned, "Again, I'm sorry, but to be told that you must have the authority to be told by being on the list. It's very important, you understand, that no unauthorized people be told."

"Then how does one obtain permission to find this Center to be placed on the list if he must be on the list to begin with?" Albus was feeling a strange desire to begin pulling at his beard.

The voice on the other side of the portrait answered, "To do that you have to contact your local representative to the Center For the List. And petition him/her to be put on the short list to be placed on the list of people applying to be placed on the list."

The need to begin pulling his beard had just grown stronger, "And where might I find this alleged person that is my representative?"

Albus could almost see the head of the person nodding as they said, "You would have to go to the offices of the representative at either an accredited branch of the Ministry Department of Lists, or to the Center itself to find him. But I must warn you; most of the representatives are pretty strange people that don't like to be found. The best way to do this would be to look in the last place first. To get a list of places that a representative might be found you should apply with the secretary in order to be put on a list for mailing to receive the list of places the representative could be found."

Albus began feeling as if Fudge had finally managed to create the bureaucracy he, Malfoy and Umbridge had dreamed of for years. "So I should go to the Ministry to apply for this list to be sent to me in the post?"

"No, why ever would you go to the Ministry for something as being put on the list to receive the list in the mail to apply with a representative to be put on a list to have your name posted on the List?"

Albus, near tears in frustration at the conversation, "But you just said that I should go to the Ministry."

At that the voiced hmmed for a moment and then said, "No, I said that you needed to go to an accredited location of the Ministry Department of Lists to apply. There is no office of the Department of Lists at the Ministry."

"In that case, where would I find this accredited location?" Albus asked, believing he was finally getting somewhere.

"Anaheim, Ca. in the United States. But they have peculiar office hours; they're only open on days beginning with an R during the fifth week of the month, mostly during a Leap Year. If you hurry, you might get there before they close." The voice explained.

"But there is no day that begins with an R…" at that point Albus passed out from the massive confusion his centenarian mind couldn't deal with.

At the slumping of his form the portrait opened to show the widely grinning face of Garret. 'God, I love pulling a 'Norman' on these putzes that are too smart for their own good.' After taking the time to arrange the old fart to be more comfortable on the floor, he placed the Elder Wand in Albus hand and cast a low powered disarming charm. The wand flew from the slack grip of the old man and into his own.

Garret knew he was setting that up a bit early, but he didn't feel guilty over it. To him, it was just an item on the list to take care of that had been gotten to much earlier than expected. He put the wand back into the concealed holder the old fart had up his sleeve and called for a couple of elves to carry the old man to his rooms and put him to bed.

But not before charming a few of the old bastards beard hairs with a stench addition to the flatulence hex added to another and a personal scent deadener for Albus on his nose. The idea that the societal tear down of the 'Greatest Wizard of the Age' was continuing at a good walk; well, that gave Garret a warm feeling all over.

Clapping his hands together and rubbing them fiercely, Garret spoke aloud, "Now, what can I get Oil Can Harry with this time before I go home tomorrow?" As he walked down the hall to the stairs, intent on some deviltry that would only activate when Snape walked through the door of his quarters in the morning. Plans for plaid hair that cycled through every garish color of the rainbow, or shoes that cracked and popped like firecrackers playing through his mind.


End file.
